Old Soul
by Worfe
Summary: -Complete- A love story between an immortal being...and a vampire. Bella comes to Forks, but her past is much more different than Edward could have anticipated.
1. Chapter 1

Old Soul

Summary: Bella arrives in Forks, and her past is hardly that of your normal human. Will she and Edward see through their new complications, or will the monsters of her history tear them apart.

* * *

Chapter One: Hypocrite

* * *

It's been a long time since I've feared death. I'm not a brave person by nature, but death isn't a dividing line for me. That's all there is to fear, the loss of everything as you know as you cross into everything you don't. Still, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid now. I am afraid, because for the first time— in a very long time— dying means losing something.

Something I never thought I'd have.

It seems unfair to lose it now, just when I'd found it. I had grown comfortable believing it didn't exist, believing that it was a cruel lie that outlined my destiny, an illusion, a con.

Love.

To find that it was real...that there was a reason, that this wretched path had a purpose— I can't explain what that meant to me.

So even if I'm forced to lose it now, I can't regret the forces that brought me to Forks, or what I found there. Even if it was brief, even if in my long life I only had it for a moment. Because in that moment I was happy, I was whole. Sounds corny right? That was what I thought too.

But, yes, it was even worth dying for-and even more, it was worth what was worse than death.

I stared back at those despairing ruby eyes. So familiar.

And I was at his mercy.

And I was afraid.

But I have no regrets, and even though it's killing me— I'd do it again.

* * *

Mrs. Kohl thought I was emotionally unstable.

She'd been a social worker for over twenty years so maybe she would know. But I doubt she'd ever stumbled across anyone like me, so I was more than willing to overlook the negative opinion.

That's not ego, really, I'm pretty unique. Not one of a kind exactly, one of twelve. But one of twelve, in a world of six billion people, that's still unique. But it wasn't like she knew that, to her I was probably just another case file with another tragic past. Kid's taken in by the system are there for a reason after all.

She kept giving me sidelong glances as her burgundy Ford cut through the forests that surrounded my new town, my latest attempt. It was the end of winter, but the old pine trees were still a dull, worn-out green and hung heavily in the sky; we moved down the road as if surrounded by large mossy walls.

"You have an interesting name, is it short for anything," she asked, by way of conversation.

I wondered why she bothered considering she'd spent the first thirty minutes of our journey on her phone, discussing wedding plans with her daughter.

"No," I lied.

"It's an old fashioned sort of name," she pried deeper and I wondered what she was trying to get at. Did she think that she'd learn more about my past than the five social workers before her had? And Bella wasn't an unusual name; or is it old fashioned now? (I never knew) But my real name probably would have raised some questions. Oddly enough I liked Bella better, I felt like a Bella.

"It's just a name," I sighed, "Kohl means cabbage, is there any importance to that?" I stared straight ahead. Silently I added that her head looked like a head of cabbage that had been left in the pot too long.

"You speak German?"

I glanced at her cautiously, her wrinkly eyes looking back at me with a friendly but still probing manner. She was pretty smart for an old woman who had needed to glance at my file to know my name.

Staying silent was easiest and I leaned back in my seat trying to listen to the radio she'd turned down low. It was a golden oldies station and James Darren was crooning one of his hits. I'd been such a fan of his back then.

"Are you looking forward to all the nature," Mrs. Kohl asked. The silence had dragged on between us long enough.

Mrs. Kohl wasn't a nature lover, I could tell that much by her tone; she didn't see much value in the ocean of green that surrounded us.

"Yeah," I answered easily, trying my best to sound normal.

Her pencil drawn eyebrows raised an inch, "Really?"

"Sure, never lived in the country," I lied.

"Well, the Winters are a very nice couple," she stated assuredly.

The sales pitch was nice but not needed. I'd met the Winters only once, but I knew enough to know they weren't nice. Not bad people by any means, but they hadn't taken me into their home to be nice. Which actually suited me just fine.

Getting new foster parents is sort of like trying on clothes. I don't mean to downplay a complicated system but that's really what it's like. With some families the fit is all wrong, the arms too tight, the buttons held on by sheer will. Thankfully the world isn't a closeout where all sales are final. When the new fit is worse than the old fit it's usually best to just move on, keep your receipts and return the old life without a backwards glance.

There is _one_ thing that is different, sometimes the clothes reject you. Sometimes you weren't what the clothes had in mind, maybe they pictured being worn by a blonde teenager who wanted to go out for cheerleading, they find it's _you_ that doesn't fit.

Can you guess what I say to this?

Move on.

Nothing much is worth fighting for anyway.

_Forks_

The name flashed by, welcoming me to the small town that was about to become my home. It was an odd name. It had been an old lumber town, one that held onto survival by the determination of the people who lived there, that the few tourists who ventured to one of the rainiest, cloudiest places in the entire continental United States.

The Winters home was a small ranch style, set back in the woods with a winding dirt road leading up to it. From first glance it looked like the sort of house that had once been well loved and cared for, but had fallen on hard times.

As had the Winters themselves.

Mr. Winters was a man in his late fifties, he had a rugged beard that made it difficult to read his expression. His hair had mostly gone grey and he had one of those stomachs that stuck out to hang over his belt even though the rest of him was wiry and skinny. He was waiting on the porch when we drove in, some dogs that were caged to the left of the house barked crazily and had most likely warned him of our arrival.

"Mr. Winters," Mrs. Kohl said, stepping out of the car. She wore pumps, styled in a way that had been popular in the eighties, the driveway was dirt and her heels stumbled but she shook his hand with a polished smile.

I got my things out of the backseat of the car. There wasn't much, all of it stuffed into one black garbage bag. I swung it over my shoulder and went to stand next to my new father.

Father.

That was a thought, and a ridiculous one. Mr. Winters had no ambitions of filling that role. His gray eyes looked at me with little expression as I stood before him.

"Isn't Mrs. Winters around," Mrs. Kohl asked glancing around the yard.

"Shopping," Mr. Winters grunted. "Stuff for…Bella." He paused before saying my name as if it had taken him a moment to recall it.

"Oh," Mrs. Kohl's tight lips softened some, her nervousness disappearing. "Excited is she?"

Mr. Winters grunted in agreement.

"Well, good luck Bella," Mrs. Kohl said. She drew me into an uncomfortable hug that was probably supposed to be reassuring. I shrugged her off, maybe if I was new to this game it might have been welcome. But I doubted it.

"Well, all the preliminary inspections have been made," she said to Mr. Winters. She glanced at my file for a moment. "Mr. Havershim," here she frowned for a moment, "Er-Mr. Harvershim _was_ handling this case but he is no longer-I'll be handling Bella's case work. I'll give you a few weeks to settle in and then I'll drop by to see how things are going."

She'd swiftly shoved Mr. Havishim under the rug. He was something of a scandal, so I couldn't blame her for not wanting to mention it. He hadn't been particularly negligent, he was simply a racist who enjoyed putting children into 'white homes'. In some cases some very bad homes, it seemed skin color was significant recommendation in his mind. So much so he hadn't done his due diligence when looking into some families. He'd been fired, and all his cases reassigned. But not before I'd managed to find my own new home. Something I was grateful for.

Mr. Winters grunted once again.

"I'll give you a ring before, I hope I can meet Mrs. Winters next time."

He nodded.

Mrs. Kohl gave me a last curious look, but was more than eager to get back in her car and drive away. I watched the old car as it left and I knew that Mrs. Kohl wouldn't find room in my crowded memories, she was forgotten the minute her car left the driveway. But I doubt she had room for me in her thoughts either.

Mr. Winters and I stood alone in the yard. It had been a long drive to Forks and it was still daylight, but under the cloud cover it didn't make much difference.

With a loud smack of his gums, Mr. Winters turned back to the house and I followed.

When we entered, I thought the smell would be the thing I remembered most about the Winters's home. It smelled like old cigarettes and the damp moldy smell that wet carpet can take on. And something else, a sweet sort of sickly smell. Dying smell. It reminded me of times I'd rather forget and so I held my breath and focused on the only other occupant in the room besides the silent Mr. Winters.

Because, Mrs. Winters was not out shopping as her husband had stated.

Mrs. Winters was seated in a recliner, her face poking out of a nest of pillows, her brown eyes taking me in with the visual acuity of a hawk. She was watching my face, maybe wondering if I'd finally snap now that I'd been dropped in their laps. Now that there was no escaping.

Mrs. Winters was dying.

It was the first thing she'd told me during our previous meeting and she'd watched my reaction just as carefully then. She's lied to the state, because who would place a child with a dying woman? But she had her morals, and she wouldn't lie to me. It had been too many cigarettes in her youth, and she 'hoped to God' that I was leaving the 'devil's cancer sticks' alone.

It had been obvious to my former case worker that Mrs. Winters was ill, but Mr. Havishim hadn't minded and he hadn't asked as many questions as he should have. I was one of a hundreds of teenagers who needed someplace to stay, he assumed I could do worse. After all, who wanted a seventeen year old girl?

Her hawk gaze continued its stare for a full minute, but I must have passed her test yet again because she gestured me further into the room, patting the couch that was beside her.

"Good," she wheezed. Mrs. Winters didn't waste words I'd learned. Maybe it was because every word cost her so much effort she'd learned the value of being brief.

"Your rooms 'n back," Mr. Winters mumbled before turning around and heading outside.

"He works- hez- in shed," she managed to say, pounding at her chest in some frustration.

I nodded.

"Look afta him," she directed me, those same brown eyes bearing down on me. "He's lost, God knows he -he he–needs someone to do for 'im."

I nodded.

I knew what I was getting into. The Winters had been married for over twenty-five years, and never had any children. And I wasn't some late-in-life (very late in Mrs. Winter's case) desire for progeny. They had never wanted children, still didn't.

She'd been a waitress at a truck stop, her husband made furniture that they sold to tourists who passed through town. They liked the town of Forks, they liked being left alone. But their independence from society had changed when Mrs. Winters fell sick with lung cancer. The doctors had done all they could, the cancer had spread too quickly and done too much damage. There was nothing more to do but call Hospice and send her home to die.

Small clear tubes ran from a cylinder of compressed air and entered her nostrils. The equipment was familiar enough that it shouldn't be troubling, but it stated the truth as if someone had written her fate on her forehead. But I wasn't afraid of her, not of the pallor of her skin, the sunken quality of her eyes, not even of the smell of death.

She noted my gaze tiredly, "Dying's not bad," she said. "Leaving's the hard-hez- part." Her breath came in pants and she looked at me maybe hoping I understood what she meant.

Dying I knew, leaving not so much. But I nodded anyway.

"He's useless," she said weakly but there was a faint smile on her lips as she said it.

I looked around the room. It told the tale well enough. The plants in a corner were dying from lack of watering, clothes were piling up for want of laundering, a garden hose had even been dragged in through the kitchen window in an effort to clean the plates that were piling up in the sink. Mr. Winters had probably never bought or cleaned his own clothes, cooked his own meals, tidied his home or even gone shopping. He was a husband in the old sense of the word, and now that his wife was dying there was no one to do for him. If he were a widower he'd probably just remarry, find another woman to care for him. But Mrs. Winters was still clinging onto life.

Or maybe if they'd had a daughter she would have been the one to come. As they didn't, here I was.

Back at the Central Youth Facility, home to other misplaced young people, they'd probably think I was crazy for wanting this sort of a life. For even trying this sort of a fit. The Winters were the hideous orange polka dot sweater that no one wanted to take home. They didn't want a child, they wanted a hired girl that never had to go home, that they didn't have to pay.

But maybe I was type of girl that wasn't looking for a prom dress or the perfect pair of jeans. Maybe all I wanted to a lousy sweater that I could hang over my shoulders and provide just enough warmth to keep me for shivering. Maybe I didn't want clothes that were looking for something permanent, maybe I wanted clothes that would take what they could get and leave the rest alone.

They weren't planning on forever. And neither was I.

Forever, is an awfully big responsibility. I know the danger of tossing that sort of word around. What I was looking for was a word like temporary, transient, fleeting. When you live a life like mine, most everything is. So why pretend, why force it to be something it's not.

Move on, I reminded myself of my new motto. This time I would stick to it. Move on, and try to enjoy life and, even if for only this once, I'd live without memory or precaution.

I brought Mrs. Winters a drink of water and held the glass for her as she took deep sips before I left her to her nap. She slept fitfully and I stared at her for a moment, wondering if she really knew how close death was. She probably did.

Once she was snoring, I crept through the house until I found the back bedroom that had been designated for my use. It might have been a sewing room once, the old machine and some quilt frames were still stacked in a corner. But the twin bed looked almost new, and the faded quilt in a blue and gold design was old but clean. The room smelled lighter, a window had been left open to air it out. There were no pictures or artwork, but a small dresser stood empty to take my bag of clothes.

I dumped the bag out on the bed. All the clothes were second hand, but I'd picked through them and only kept what was nice. The Winters had promised that I could keep half of the money the State gave them for looking after me. Provided I didn't spend it on 'damn cancer sticks' or drugs.

Maybe some new clothes.

There was only one item in the bag that couldn't be worn. It was a small cat statuette. Which might make people think I was one of those girls that like kitsch cat sweatshirts or posters of kittens on my walls. But that's not the reason she sits there.

I found her in a Good Will store when I was five, back when we were traveling through Northern California, before the big bust up in Kelso. She was nestled back with the household goods, looking out of place next to frying pans and discarded cassette tapes. A seated cat, carved of stone and although small enough to fit in my hand, it has a weight that reminded me of times past. Everything seems to be made of plastic now, but she was solid.

Maybe I'm a hypocrite. All my talk of leaving the past in the past, and yet, ever since I found her, everywhere I go, she sits in my room. Silent guardian and watcher. Which is a comfort considering she's been more silent than ever these years, maybe she's dead.

Where do all the dead Gods go?

Bast. Her name sounds like a hiss or maybe a curse.

I remembered kneeling before a statue of her, it was taller than my mother and plated in gold that made it shine as a god should. But then maybe it wasn't gold, but simple paint; Child eyes make everything wonderful. She was a warrior goddess, but I always thought her eyes were kind, even if her claws were sharp. The priests burned incense constantly in the summer months to appeal to her, and you could buy a stick to take home in exchange for grain. The grain was for the goddess, but the priests were the ones that ate it. Still the incense seemed magical and I hide the one my mother bought me in the case that stored my kalasiris. When I opened the lid to dress in the morning, her scent would overcome me.

In my weaker moments, I've wished to smell it again.

You see the flaw of course. It's easy to move on from clothes that don't fit, to toss aside orange polka dot sweaters. But, even for me, some things stay and follow you through the centuries.

I situated the small cat on the middle of my dresser. If there were proper prayers I have forgotten them. Perhaps I never knew them. She was the goddess of my mother's people, and 'mother' is something that I only knew briefly. My father favored Jupiter, choosing the deity of Rome as a link to his home, a place outside the sand and heat that I grew up in. His first son, Marius, prays to Mars, god of war and courage. Marcus, the second son...he found his solace elsewhere.

But I didn't like to think of them now. You'd think the memories would be foggy and misplaced, hidden underneath the ages that have swept between us and that time. And while so much has been lost, forgotten, cast aside— somehow those first memories still hold.

So I am a hypocrite. _Move on. _It's a weak attempt at bravery, an attempt at being stronger than the little girl I was all that time ago. But here, alone with the Winters, I might actually have a chance to give it a try. An attempt to really flow with time rather than stand against it.

Because time is wearing me away, like the water that wears away the stone.

It really is time to move on.

* * *

School is pointless.

I was reminded of this fact as I sat in my new history class and attempted not to fall asleep. They were teaching the American Civil War, and the stories they were telling were mostly wrong or flawed in some way. Or so I assumed, in my experience people never got history quite right.

Our teacher was talking about war and death. He knew the numbers of people who had died, but he didn't know war. It was so far away from them, this war when people had died, and they had died so very long ago. I suddenly saw a boy's face in my head, he was on a dirty bed sheet and I was trying my best to keep the flies from landing on his face. He was delirious with fever and he kept trying to remember a song his mother had sang to him, it was an old Hungarian tune. I had tried to sing it, but my throat was dry and the words wouldn't form. He died and I tried to feel an emotion other than jealousy.

I couldn't remember his name, if I ever knew it, but his face in those last moments still lingered.

"And Sherman marched eastward finally ending his march–"

The dying boy was gone from my mind, even if the stink still hung in front of my nose like a tangible thing. I tried to at least look alert while our teacher prattled on about things he didn't understand, I didn't see how the other teenagers were managing it.

My gaze slid to the blonde boy who had introduced himself eagerly at the start of class. His blue eyes had widened a bit when he saw me, some anticipation in that expression. He was friendly, maybe overly so and my cluelessness and awkwardness had been misinterpreted as being aloof and cool. Cool, what a strange term to express popularity.

A blonde girl, who suits him better than I do, is irritated by his shift in attention. And I couldn't say I blamed her.

She slid a note across my desk.

_Aren't boys sooo obvious, it's like Kindergarten and you're the shiny new toy._

I crumpled the note and nodded my agreement. But I really didn't understand her or the boy and I wished lunch would be soon. I was hungry and the flaky pieces of cereal I'd eaten this morning were a pale substitute for what breakfast should be.

"And Sherman later—"

How are they standing this? I buried my head in my hands.

Of course not many of the students at Forks High looked as if they got up at five to tend to an invalid and do a load of laundry before coming to school. They seemed odd from my perspective, youth is so sheltered now. Only a couple hundred years ago most of these girls would have been married and raising their own children. But presently they are given this title of teenager, an extension on the innocence of childhood.

Although innocence may be pushing it if the couple I saw necking in a blue van this morning is any indication.

It was harder to stay awake today without the fear of being called on. Teachers always dismiss you the first day. I was certain that somewhere attached to my transcripts was the title 'Foster Child'. They'd pressure me even less. People usually imagine a colorful past to go with that term. They'll wonder if my parents were drug addicts, or maybe my father was a little too friendly. It's easier to say they beat me; no one really wants to pry after that.

But of course, they didn't.

The parents I had this time around were good people. I was their third child, and I was welcomed into their loving little brood with the kind of warmth that always lulls me and makes me want to stay. But I wasn't the child they'd hoped for. Odd how they still loved me. Officially it probably says somewhere that I was kidnapped and the case is still open. But they were German and countries never seem to share records well.

I wasn't kidnapped, I was reclaimed. Taken back by my older family, folded back into the niche that has held me for centuries. We left Germany for Sweden, smuggled out on a steamer and ended up in South America. Over the last seven years or so we ventured upward, at times tracking and hunting, and other times running for our lives.

Not that our lives mean much.

Maybe I'd still be running with them if we hadn't gone to Kelso. It had appeared to be a harmless little bit of tracking at the time, how were we to know that we'd become the prey? When the police pulled me out of that bloody building they probably figured I was too traumatized to remember what had happened. If I'd told them the truth, they might never have let me out of that hospital.

After all, the horror that made one young policemen loose his lunch didn't even make my 'top ten gruesome scenes' list. Some other file somewhere probably said I have survivor's guilt or maybe PTSD but it's really relief and the chance to spend a few quiet years before I have to go back to them again.

A bell rang and everyone rose to their feet like cattle, I slipped into the heard feeling oddly soothed by the rhythm of feet on tile and the murmur of voices.

The blonde boy tried to catch my eye and I ducked into a girl's bathroom. It was filled with a row of fake blondes reapplying make-up, gathered about the mirror with their lipsticks and mascara. They were talking about gossip and I hid in a stall when I realized I was part of the latest news. They must not get many new topics here, not if I'm drawing attention.

Such strange creatures. And then I had to wonder if I seemed strange to them, I wish I had some way of knowing. I didn't really want to be different. I actually really wanted to fit in, blending in so seamlessly that I became part of the background.

I couldn't help but wonder what the other twelve would think if they saw me here. Acting like I'm one of these students, just another blank soul embracing existence for the first time. But then, I knew what they would say, after so long I've practically memorized the way their hearts beat.

They'd be disappointed, shamed that I've seemingly given up and decided to live without them. But not surprised. Suicide should have been the next step in the protocol that governs our existence. But it always was so pathetic. And despite what they may continue to hope for, there is no breaking the curse, I've come to terms with that. We're stuck in this endless cycle, Marius's oath sealed us this way.

Marius, closer to me than anyone else and also just as far, I can feel him somewhere. I just have to close my eyes and it feels as if he's next to me. I could find him if I wanted to. But I never have, he's the one who seeks me out. When he's old enough he'll find us all and drag us back to his foolish crusade, and I'll be forced to go.

So it wasn't too much of a sin to want to live here now, to embrace this normal life and pretend that the violent echoes of my past don't haunt me.

I'm hungry, I leave the bathroom when the noise level dropped some, I slipped back into the hall. I made it to the cafeteria without much notice. The Winters gave me some money for a school lunch and I waited in line. The boy in front of me kept glancing at me from the sides of his eyes, but I didn't turn to speak with him. He's taller than me by a head, and his dark hair is a little on the greasy side. Or maybe it's that hair gel that even boys use now. I stared blankly at the food that is sitting under heat lamps, it looked unappetizing.

Greasy Pizza?

Maybe I'll stick with the salad bar.

It was then that I noticed them.

And the instant I did alarm bells rang in my head, my steps froze and the blood that flowed through my veins stopped. Everything seemed to stop, my heart, my breathing, even the room itself slowed down to an unnatural pace. I was stuck staring at them across the room and wondering why I hadn't sensed them sooner.

They were beautiful, glacial skin and smooth features. I knew they were even more beautiful in the sunlight, when the sun reflects off their skin shooting motes of light into the air, just like diamonds. They smelled even better, like a twisted mixture of all your favorite scents. I knew what it was like to feel their cool skin pressed close, the hardness and the unbreakableness of them.

I knew what it was like to have their unnaturally white teeth settle at your neck, rip through flesh and drink your life away as your fingers go numb and your vision goes dark.

After time stops, it always speeds up again; extra fast, as if it needs to catch up.

I dropped my tray at a table and turned, I left the cafeteria and my feet started running as soon as I was out of the room. I was sprinting through the halls, people watched me as I went but I couldn't slow down. My speed was fueled by panic, I was running so fast my brown hair came loose from the clips that secured it and flew in the open air as I exited the building.

I was in the yard and I chanced looking back for the first time. My heart was screaming in my chest and my legs were stiff but I couldn't stop, I kept running even as my hair blocked my vision.

They weren't following me but I couldn't stop.

I was off the school grounds and running through the small neighborhoods that surround the school before my pace slowed. I stopped next to a red mail box and tried to breathe even when my lungs felt ready to burst. I bent at the waist, clutching my knees and closing my eyes.

I was shaking.

But wasn't fear, I realized this only then. I should be afraid, I should be terrified. There is a clan of them here. Five of them. And only me.

But I wasn't afraid. I was furious. Why are they here, why now when I have a chance to live a life away from my family? It's been decades since Marius and I have been separated by this much time; how long has it been since I've had the chance to live my life alone?— I have to think hard to remember. The first peace since 1830, when I lived for several years in a Chinese village high in the mountains.

And I wanted this!

I wanted to live here in Forks, to go to school, I wanted to pretend that I knew nothing of _them._

Vampires.

But that is a modern word. In a world where they are romanticized, and loved. In the early times they were considered demons. In India they were called Vetalas, those who inhabit corpses and drink blood. In Africa the Asanbosam and the Adze who hunts children. They knew to fear them then. They knew of dark things that drank blood and the people were wise and feared them.

But they were also called gods. And worshiped. And fed.

I breathed deeply. I know I can't fight them, it's like trying to fight a tank or a bulldozer. I was alone and the only skills I had at my disposal would only slow the time until they attacked and bled me dry.

Move on.

There's a state road that goes out of town only a few miles from here. I could get there and hitch a ride. Sure, there is a reason why they tell teenage girls not to hitchhike, but the humans I meet can't be any more dangerous than what I'm leaving behind. But I should go to the Winters's house first and get my things. I'll want some clean clothes and a little food, and my statue.

I could only hope I was out of Washington by nightfall, I'd hate to have to be dragged back. And it's not as if I can tell them I decided against Forks because the town is overrun with vampires.

But where will you go?

I stared blankly at the red mailbox. It read 343, and no doubt the numbers mean something to someone somewhere. A home, a place where you can never be turned away, a place where they have to take you in. But when you've got no place to go, no home, when your last chance at normal just failed you...where do you go?

Move on.

But to where? My handy guide to life falls short of answering that question. This _was _me moving on, this _was_ me carving out a different life. Forks was my shot at a few years of peace away from Marius's dogged crusade. After high school I could shed the skin of a teenager and be an adult with an open world. Maybe I'd even go to college. I snort at the irony of me in college.

Move On.

I know.

Move On.

I was angry, I was still fuming. I'd finally found something that worked. Why do I have to leave? I wasn't completely helpless. Marius and I, we'd found tricks over the years. There was no reason I couldn't slip under their radar. After all, I'm at a school with hundreds of other young and tasty bloods. I could stay here, just for a year. I just need to avoid them, it couldn't be that hard.

MOVE ON

I really am a hypocrite. Because like it or not, and come what may, Forks is where I plan to stay.

* * *

A/N: As I hope you can see, this is going to be a very different retelling of the original Myers novel "Twilight". If you're devoted to cannon, this story will throw a wrench in some plot points, but ultimately it is still a love story. I originally started working on this story in my spare time as a way to develop my first person perspective, and eventually completed a story that is over 150 pages. It's been sitting on my hard drive...and tonight I decided to publish it. Whether it is good or bad, ultimately it is for the reader to decide.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Brazen

* * *

Have you ever preformed an ancient ritual?

Ancient is a subjective term in my case, but that doesn't bear on this conversation. Ancient Rituals are actually more common than you might think, sure a lot of them have crumbled to dust along with their cultures, but some of them still remain in spirit, even if they would be unrecognizable to the people who created them.

Religion of any kind is a great place to find ritual, the Christian practice of communion was carried out with the same intent in Jesus's time as it is two thousand years later. Of course the apostles didn't deal out Welches's grape juice and they wouldn't have used Wonder bread. But rituals have to change to meet the times and resources available, that is how a good ritual keeps going.

And if Religion isn't your thing, well some aspects of ancient culture are still practiced by mainstream society today. I'm a fan of the modern Halloween. Who doesn't love dressing in costume and getting free candy, but the practice of annually giving food to wandering spirits existed in Ireland and Ancient Egypt.

We just have to adapt.

Which is why I stole the keys to Mr. Winter's truck.

The Winters didn't seem to mind when I came home at lunchtime, essentially ditching my first day of school. Mrs. Winters was more functioning in the morning, but by the afternoon her strength had failed her and she was dozing on the couch with the television on. Her eyes opened blurrily when I walked into the room.

I gazed at the TV dinner she'd managed to warm up for herself before slumping into a chair. The food wasn't even touched. Not that I could blame her, the small meat patty looked overcooked and the kernels of corn where swimming in a thick syrup.

"I'll make some soup," I told her.

She must have known the time, because _Price is Right _was still on, but she just nodded and didn't ask why I was home from school.

Soup is something easy to make, and if you aren't picky you can make it with practically whatever is in a house. Some canned tomatoes, chop some carrots and celery, toss in potatoes and beans with whatever meat is handy, and as long as you let it simmer the result is usually edible and you can make it without having to think about what you're doing.

I used this time to make a mental list of things I would need to do if I wanted to remain in Forks.

Like I said, fighting vampires is sort of like fighting a bulldozer. Running right at the thing is a good way to die. But every heavy machine has its cracks, just like every suit of armor has its flaws, and if you have to the time to study it long enough, you can find some methods to weaken it, or better yet to stay out of it's way.

Mr. Winters stood in the doorway.

"Whatcha making," he asked, his body leaning inward as he sniffed the air. He must have been living on TV dinners for awhile if my hodgepodge soup looked appetizing to him.

"Some soup. I'll need to go shopping tomorrow," I told him as I turn back to the onion I was chopping.

"I'll drive you," he said.

It was the same response this morning when I needed to get to school. The Winters owned one truck, an old massive amount of metal, but it's actually constructed of two different trucks, some older and some new. Mr. Winters doesn't talk much but he grunted something to that effect when we drove to school this morning. I take it that he did all the work himself and is pretty proud of it, or must be to mention it at all.

"Should be ready early," I told him as he headed back to his shed.

I went back to staring at the simmering pot.

One thing to do first and I can't go back to school until it's done. I frowned at the soup. If Marius was here he might have smiled in an 'I told you so' manner. And he's probably right. But I think I take a perverse sort of pleasure in not listening to him sometimes.

I crossed back into the living room, Mrs. Winters was sleeping deeper now. The TV was turned off and she didn't stir even when I reached the door and removed Mr. Winters's keys from a hook next to the frame.

The house doesn't have a garage and the old truck was parked in the driveway. The dogs in the fence barked at me as I neared the vehicle and I wished they'd be silent. But Mr. Winters cursed something from inside the shed, not bothering to look away from whatever he was working on, and I got inside the cab without any interruption.

I put the key in the ignition, and turned it until the battery clicked on. The lights on the dash illuminated, the clock told me it was 12:56 and I should still be in school, and the radio started playing some country song about a prison guard dog named Ol' Red. I didn't bother turning the key enough to start the ignition. I only need the battery power, least I should with an old car like this.

Settled in the middle of the dash is a nondescript little knob and I pushed it in. A red light blinked into existence and I leaned back into the upholstery to wait for it to turn off. I had assumed it would be here, Mrs. Winters and her cancer sticks.

A storm was settling over Forks and small splatters of moisture broke onto the windshield. But it always rains here, I should get used to it. I didn't bother to change the radio station and the song changed to one about lost love. It's the sort of song that people listen to when their hearts have been broken. But the emotional cadence of the singer's voice is wasted on me.

I don't believe in love.

My old family, the twelve, the people who 'know me best' would find that statement funny. Not that I could tell them the truth. Firstly they'd never believe it, and then if they did... I think it might ruin us for good. We're a broken bunch, but we're all we have. We depend on the story of who we are, of why we suffer to ground us. Because as the years pass and things fall away, we need each other to remain sane. So I can't tell them that my part in the 'oldest of love stories' is false.

I saw_ Romeo and Juliet _once. Not in Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, I was in South America during the Elizabethan period, but I saw it in London during the 1700s. It was still pretty popular then, and the audience seemed moved by the actors and the words and they walked away as if they had seen real love up on that stage.

But it's a play, a clever lie. Juliet, she's just an actor who says the lines and copies the motions.

That isn't love.

Still, I'll admit it's hard not to get caught up in the story. And I sometimes wonder how the tale would have gone if Juliet had been indifferent to both Paris and Romeo, if she'd merely been caught up in their romantic struggles without feeling anything for either. How would it have been if Juliet didn't believe in love, if she liked them both equally but loved neither.

I suppose it wouldn't have been much of a play.

What would be the fun of watching Romeo and Paris tear apart the world over a girl who didn't believe in love. So Juliet had to love one of them, had to choose one of them, had to be willing to die and bare the curse of her choice.

"I'll look to like, if looking liking move," I said softly over the gentle beating of the falling rain.

The song had changed to something peppy and all-American, and the little red light had turned off to let me know it was ready.

It was an old cigarette lighter, probably used heavily back when Mrs. Winters was smoking three packs a day. A red coil inside the small tube became heated by the battery until it was searing hot. Looking inside I could see it hot like a red coal.

Rituals have to change. Back when Marius I first discovered this, cars hadn't been invented, let alone car cigarette lighters.

I hesitated. Was it sad that I wanted Marius here to goad me on, even though I was so desperate to escape him? I wanted his demanding stare and his firm certainty.

I let of a breath and pressed the hot metal to my inside wrist, muttering an old Egyptian word as I forced the small circle deeper into the skin, trying to remain numb as the hot air built up and seared my flesh. It wasn't as hot as a brand, but when you're in a rush this can leave a perfect circle formation.

My eyes watered.

I pulled the lighter away and examined my arm, a red circle had formed and looked angry. The edges, where the metal had touched, was a deeper red.

I plugged the lighter in again and waited. The Delevi Ring took time to make, slow painful time. But it was well worth the pain considering how it could dampen the effects of Vampire gifts.

The song on the radio was sad again. I'm not a fan of country music, it has stories and ideas that remind me of the old folk songs that people used to sing while working. Marius likes it, he calls it working man's music and he likes to think of himself as a man that is good with his hands. He is too. He also likes Rock n' Roll, the classics from the seventies.

I stared out the window for awhile before noticing the light had turned off again, and I pressed the metal to my wrist without hesitation.

This is going to be a very long afternoon, in a life that has been too long already.

* * *

I was afraid to go to school. I don't mean afraid in the sense that I didn't do my homework, or afraid in the sense that I have to see my ex-lover after a nasty break-up, or even afraid that I might get the crap beat out of me by the local dealer I pissed off. I was afraid in the mortal peril sort of way.

When I got out of Mr. Winters's car I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever see the old man again. We'd hardly bonded over the few words we'd spoken to each other the previous night...but somehow the idea of never seeing him again seemed to make my stomach churn unhappily.

Mr. Winters drove away without saying goodbye.

I'm not in the position to fear death. Dying isn't the issue here. And at least being attacked by a vampire is usually a quick way to snuff it. But it's a gamble I'm taking by staying in Forks. I could lose everything, this chance I have at a normal life is so fragile and fleeting. And second chances don't come around as often as people like to think.

As I stepped toward the school my mouth felt dry and my knees were weak, certain signs of panic. I looked horrible, I was sure, probably something like rabbit when it's facing a hawk. I rubbed at the circular markings on my wrist, the brief flare of pain was some reassurance. I'm not completely helpless, but my painful preparations yesterday seem weak in comparison to the foes I'm facing. The Delevi Ring can only do so much.

"Hey Bella!"

I prepared to duck and cover, but quelled the urge. This isn't a war, not exactly anyway, and likely my paranoia might be mistaken for insanity. And I did want to fit in here.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder who took the time to learn my name considering I'd gone to three classes yesterday and spent most of my time dozing through lectures.

No one came to mind.

A blond boy dashed over, leaving his friends who were gathered around a blue van. I vaguely recalled he was in my history class but his name was a complete blank.

"Hi," I said swiftly as he approached. I tried to attach a smile to the greeting but it must have come off poorly because he looked a little amused.

"I'm Mike, you remember me from History?"

I nodded, "Of course, so, morning."

"Think we covered the greeting thing," he said. He looked past me at the parking lot, "So you don't drive." He raised a shoulder toward Mr. Winter's old truck that was stuck in the line-up.

"Don't have a car," I said, shrugging lightheartedly. I pulled my bag closer to me, trying to strengthen my resolve as I walked toward class.

Mike followed along beside me, even though it seemed he was leaving all his things with his friends.

"So, is that your dad then?" He questioned. Maybe he didn't recognize the Winters, they are the sort that mostly kept to themselves.

He seemed honestly interested, which surprised me. Generally people aren't unselfishly curious in another person. But then I suppose I should have expected this. I was arriving in the middle of the semester, appearing from nowhere in a town where everyone knows everyone.

"No," I said with a shrug, "He's just, you know, new foster-dad..."

Mike looked blank before he figured out what I'd meant, "Ohhh," he brought his hand to the back of his neck and scratched at a lock of stubborn hair.

"It's no big deal," I said quickly, "It's just till I'm eighteen." I wondered if I was saying this for him or me. I looked around cautiously. No sign of the vampires, they seemed to avoid their fellow students.

Just a little longer, I promised the rational part of myself that still ached to run, maybe a whole year if I was lucky and Mrs. Winters lasted that long.

I was never lucky.

I glanced at Mike, he seemed relieved by my brisk dismissal. "Well, I have a car," he said, "I could give you a ride, you know, in case you decide to skip again."

I felt guilty, and my expression must have shown it. "People notice?" I asked, and cringed when Mike laughed in genuine humor. I hadn't intended to be funny but I smiled and nodded as if his laughter was my intention.

"Hard not to," he said, jostling my shoulder. We seemed close, and I'm not certain why. Maybe it was because Mike was one of those people that you can like easily, all friendly with no sore spots to poke. He seemed so different from my family or even the other wards of the state I've been spending time with.

I must have been smiling because Mike was too.

"Yeah," a new voice entered the little moment we'd been sharing, "I mean, you sort of made a beeline out. Stephanie Mitchell is going to be all over you joining the track team." I turned and spotted another somewhat familiar face, History class seemed to be the place to meet people. Although, with some chagrin, I realized I couldn't remember her name either.

She moved next to Mike and tossed a tan satchel in his direction. "Forget much?" she demanded playfully, handing him a coat as well.

"Yeah, thanks Jess," Mike said, nodding his head.

"No problem," she said with a smile. She liked him, it was obvious. She turned to me, "So what did you see the devil or something."

Not far off, I thought.

"No. It's just…did you ever just need to bolt?" I asked them, I ran a hand through my hair. "History was pretty boring."

They nodded in agreement, although they had to have been well aware of the transparency of my excuse. They must have been. Still, they seemed content to let the matter slide, they didn't know me well enough. Perhaps they thought I was some sort of delinquent. I lowered my eyelids and rolled my eyes, it's hardly an astute observation. I didn't exactly exude a 'bad girl' image, what with my simple t-shirt, navy cardigan and conservative jeans. Still, whatever they thought it didn't seem to bother them, and considering I might very well be facing my death today, it was sort of nice to know I could count on having someone to sit next to at lunch.

Well hell, I thought, despite it all I was just a teenage girl.

* * *

It didn't take me long to determine that my reputation as Forks High's newest troublemaker was very well established. Hard to believe that ditching one afternoon could have so much effect. I supposed it hadn't helped that it had been my first day. But my new image was beginning to fit uncomfortable by second period. Skipping classes had to be the most venial of sins, yet I'd still wound up new and dangerous. Something that my fellow students really seemed to enjoy.

My teachers, on the other hand, looked less than enthused. My previous kind anonymity had dissolved into a more carefully observed status. And History, in particular, seemed somewhat brutal, as the teacher tried to make certain we were paying attention by employing the Socratic Method, on me in particular. Still, I had to hand it to the man, his gaze was more thoughtful and even speculative when I left class having answered all his questions correctly.

I walked to the cafeteria, hiding my dread with what I hoped was a serene expression. It was easy to appear calm walking with Jessica. I had learned that she loved to talk and I easily fell into the habit of listening to her. The topics were hardly interesting, but despite that, she had a soothing consistency to her voice. I nodded politely and inquired when needed, which gave me enough of a distraction to keep from collapsing into a puddle of dread.

"But Mr. Marsh was totally harsh," Jessica said raising the subject of history. "It's only your second day, he didn't need to single you out."

She didn't mention that I had miraculously gotten the answers right.

"We just finished studying the Civil War at my old school," I supplied in an effort to relieve her mind.

"Oh, well that was lucky, huh?" she stated seeming comforted.

We passed the threshold to the cafeteria and I had to order myself to breathe. I avoided looking at the table they had been seated at yesterday; I was almost too worried that my gaze would give me away. I took food from the lunch line almost mechanically and ended up at the register with a piece of spinach vegetarian lasagna.

"Come on," Jessica said, tugging me away from the line. "We always sit over here."

Mike and few of his male friends were already seated in the middle of the lunch room, and he gave Jessica and me a wave as we approached. I assumed the wave was intended for me, but Jessica was noticeably cheered by the gesture.

I settled down and was given a barrage of names to learn, something I've always been bad at. Still I smiled and nodded and tried my best to remember them. It was a fruitless campaign because we were only halfway through lunch when I'd already mixed up the names of the two girls and boys.

"So Bells," Mike said, obviously feeling familiar enough to shorten my name, "What class you have next?"

"Biology," I said.

"Me too," Mike announced looking pleased for a moment.

"Too bad lab partners have already been decided," one of the girls said, her voice sounding a little sharp.

Mike seemed to glower in this disappointment for a moment.

Now, snuggled among these students, my gaze nervously drifted toward where I knew the vampires were seated. Now that I knew they were in Forks my body seemed to sense them even though I didn't want it to.

Jessica must have caught my glance.

"Those are the Cullens," she whispered.

I jerked back to look at my lasagna, "Who are?"

"Over at that table, gorgeous eh?" she nudged me and took a sip of her drink. "Of course don't even bother. They're all 'together'." She said together with an emphasis and smirked when one of the other girls tutted in the back of her throat.

"They keep to themselves, but they are nice enough," the taller girl mentioned. I sort of wished I could remember her name, she seemed kind.

"Yeah," Jessica seemed to think this an overzealous compliment, "It's just strange. I mean they live together and they are 'together'."

"They aren't blood related," the kinder girl clarified for my benefit.

My eyes couldn't help drifting in their direction now. The Cullens were surprisingly normal looking for vampires. Not that it would take me more than a moment to spot the obviousness, but they seemed to be trying their best to play human. Their clothes were new and modern in style, they'd piled food onto their trays and were even going through the charade of dismembering their meal to make it look as if they had eaten it.

"There is Edward, Alice and Emmett, they're the Dr. Cullen's foster kids." I raised an eyebrow at that rather obvious lie, "And then the Hales, the two blondes, they are Mrs. Cullen's niece and nephew...or something like that. Still it's just sort of strange, don't you think? Dr. And Mrs. Cullen are so young too."

The other girls nodded their agreement, whether they agreed or not, but I continued to stare at my plate. I wanted to look one of them in the eye and try to decide if they were wearing contacts, they must be to hide the burgundy blaze that all vampire's possessed...but I had sworn to not attract their attention and that was a promise I was going to keep.

"So," I said pulling the conversation away from the vampires, "Do we have to take gym here? I was hoping to get out of it."

"Yeah, it's sort of lame," Jessica said. "And they don't even offer, like, fitness training. My cousin in Port Angles says they offer Palates or Yoga instead, which would be awesome, right, right?"

They all nodded.

I silently mourned, I'd been hoping to escape that class, and gladly would have settled for any other. My lack of coordination and general clumsiness made me a hazard even under the best situations. Marius, more often than not, tried to keep me away from anything that required physical dexterity. By now, he and the other members of my family were forces to be reckoned with in a fight...I was still considered a liability, despite being fierce when the situation warranted it.

Least I thought so.

When lunch was over, Mike escorted me to Biology. I hated to admit it, but I appreciated the guide, Forks High was divided into several different buildings and they had been numbered by when they were built as opposed to having a linear order...thus, building two was located between buildings three and five. Building four was located across campus near building one.

Mike joked and tried to be amusing as we entered the biology classroom and I did my best to smile at the appropriate moments. He was talking about some comedy television show that I probably should be familiar with, but wasn't. Television has never really grabbed my interest.

"And then he says, 'but it's in my other pants!' Priceless."

"Ha he he," I laughed awkwardly, but Mike didn't seem to mind.

"Ah, Miss Swan," the teacher said, peering over at me as I entered. "Good of you to join us, _today_."

Swan. I sighed, slightly annoyed by Marius's attempt at humor this time around. I'm as swanlike as a hippopotamus.

"Um yeah, sorry about..." I stuttered unhappily as there wasn't a plausible excuse I could offer for ditching this man's class.

"We have one open seat Miss Swan, the both of you hurry and sit down, you know I like to keep a punctual start time Mr. Newton."

"Sorry Mr. Banner," Mike apologized, looking almost contrite.

I gave Mike a nod before looking for the only other open seat.

The- I swallowed almost convulsively. The only other seat available was right next to a vampire. It made sense, I suppose, that the others had isolated him, subconsciously they must have sensed he was a predator.

The small row between the desks seemed impossibly long as I marched to my seat. I've had shorter funeral walks, this was mind numbingly impossible. I wanted to turn and run, I wanted to get out of Forks. Screw whatever noble ambition I'd had of staying under their radar and living out my time here.

I took a seat and managed to release a breath, doing my best to force my lips into a smile so that I could at least feign a friendly greeting. When I thought I had my expression under control, I tilted my head and turned to face him.

What was his name? Jessica had said them...I'd been too busy trying to avoid the topic to pay much heed. Still, his name shot to the forefront of my mind as soon as my eyes met his face.

Edward.

Handsome, beautiful even. A face like the kind sculptured by Michelangelo, copper colored locks hanging just past his ears, broad shoulders...and even from here the vague scent of him was wreaking havoc on my system. Pleasure, fear, horror. It was too many bad memories to count.

But his eyes terrified me and my greeting died on my tongue. For that beautiful face was twisted into something like revulsion and his eyes were a dizzying black

Black, the color of hunger, death...how many times had I stared down such eyes before the life was drained out of me. I wondered if the horrors of my past were being broadcast from my brown eyes, and I hurriedly turned my chin and faced forward.

I placed a hand on edge of the table to steady myself, a deep breath to try and dislodge the despair that had settled into my chest. I tightened the pressure on my jaw to try and keep it from trembling. But my eyes were outside my control and the tears that developed grew in number no matter how fiercely my inner mind told me not to. Something that might be called a tear slipped from my lids but I wiped it away before it even landed on my cheek, forcing the gesture to appear like an innocent itch.

I just hoped he could control himself until we left this room of children. My life was forfeit, but my life didn't matter. I'd gambled and I'd lost, but the real victims would be the innocents in this classroom. Vampires in a bloodlust would destroy anything and everything in their path.

I really should have left Forks.

The minutes began to drag, each one counted in a way they hadn't before. And as the clock continued to tick and my heart continued to beat, I felt— perplexed.

Once again my eyes drifted toward my companion. His own hands were locked onto the table, and small slivers of wood had been broken off by the grip of his hand. He was very still, not even feigning breath and his furious expression now seemed directed at the table.

My confusion grew, of all the vampires in my life I'd never seen one who was capable of keeping their bloodlust under control. It's more than thirst I've been told, it's like a physical burn. And when the blood is to one's liking, denying it is like resisting a force of nature. Inevitable. I've been told it's impossible to resist, even with the best intentions.

Maybe he was just waiting until we were alone.

Still my eyes lingered on his hands, I didn't think I could meet his gaze again, they clutched at the table and his knuckles were white.

The bell rang suddenly and I was jerked out a reverie I hadn't realized I'd fallen in. The Cullen boy was out of his seat and through the door before I could release a sigh of relief. The class had both dragged and flew by, and I had no knowledge whatever of the topic discussed. I gave a cursory glance at the chalk board, something about cell mitosis.

"Boring, bet you want to ditch now," Mike's curious voice intruded.

Looking up I realized everyone else was moving on to their next class, utterly unaware of how close to death they had come, but I felt like I'd been frozen to my seat. I tried to pull myself away and fiddled with collecting my books while Mike hovered over me.

"So what did you say to Cullen," he asked curiously, a bit of anxiety in his voice. "He looked like you'd stabbed him with a pencil."

"I didn't say anything to him," I said coldly. "He's…" I trailed off helplessly my mind flinging through options, "But no matter what Jess says about him, he's not my type." It was a weak excuse, but the only one that I could think of.

Mike's lips flickered into a brief smile before he wiped the expression away. "Oh, yeah, really? Like what about him?"

I shrugged and rose to my feet, Mike wouldn't understand. "It's just a feeling," I said evasively.

Mike still looked confused but he walked me out the door with a thoughtful expression.

No, I didn't like Edward Cullen's type at all.

* * *

I was in the last class of the day when an aide from the office appeared. It seemed that my little excursion the previous day had earned me a trip to the counselor's office. Perhaps my distracted attitude the rest of the day hadn't helped matters, my English teacher, Mr. Mason, had to call me twice just to tell me I'd been sent to the office. Everyone seemed a little annoyed with me really, but I couldn't help it, I was slightly preoccupied waiting for a bloodthirsty vampire to drop down and consume me whole.

Finding the office was an exercise in futility, distraction made me clumsier that usual and I was nursing a scraped elbow (no blood thankfully) by the time I made it there.

When I found the building I stood awkwardly by the door until a woman with dyed red hair and a perm noticed me. She raised a pencil-thin eyebrow and I scurried toward her desk to hand over the pass I'd been given.

"Mr. Homer's office is right through there," she said, pointing down a narrow hallway to my left.

"Thanks," I nodded, frowning as I found my way.

I don't like counselors or therapists. They are sort of a new invention for the modern atheist age. Before people used to go to priests, or maybe just prayed to whatever they believed in. But people today don't seem to believe in much, so they find their gods in science. Perhaps that's the same really.

But I don't like therapists because they find pleasure in picking at old wounds. And I'm trying my best to let things scab over.

"Mr. Homer," I asked peeking inside the room.

"Ah, Miss. Swan, come in please."

Mr. Homer was an older man with a bald head, he had worn-looking sweater vest over his rather large stomach. The desk he sat at was old and a green desk lamp brightened the dark little office.

"Take a seat," he said, indicating the small chair that was practically surrounded by file folders. He was looking through a similar folder as I sat, holding my knees together tightly and trying my best to not seem anxious.

"It's alright," he said, offering me a smile, "I just want to see how things are going."

I guess my calm exterior wasn't so convincing.

"It's fine," I said trying to feel as if I meant it.

"I understand you left early yesterday," he prompted. Mr. Homer had rather bulbous eyes and I almost preferred it when he was perusing what must be my file, facing him was uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I had something I had to do at home."

Mr. Homer peered up at me, his expression kindly. "I understand you're living with the Winters family, how is that working out."

"Good," I answered.

"We do have a strict attendance policy," Mr. Homer said, his expression becoming a little more sharp. "If there is something for you to do at home, make certain the Winters provide you with a note."

"Alright." I folded my hands in my lap and stared at my fingernails with more concentration than is required.

"Good, well, that will be all, if you have any trouble you can come and see me."

"That's all?" I looked up, feeling very relieved.

Mr. Homer looked amused, "That's all, it's only your second day. You can't have gotten into that much trouble yet."

You'd be surprised, I thought to myself as I collected my bag. "Thanks," I said with a nod, happy to have escaped. The bell rang when I rose to my feet and as I left Mr. Homer's office I couldn't help but feel in a great mood. I'd managed to survive this day intact, and considering the danger presented in Biology, that was a real accomplishment.

"Surely there must be some other class I could take," a pleasing voice said forcefully.

I stopped dead as my eyes landed on the source.

Edward Cullen was leaning toward the red headed secretary, his expression deceptively friendly, his smile perhaps a tad too wide.

"Is there some problem with Biology," the secretary responded, her words sounding slightly breathless as she fell under the vampire's enticing physical form.

"No," Edward ground out, the annoyance seeping into his voice, "I'd simply like to take a different class, any class..." His voice trailed off as his head whipped in my direction. His genial expression meant for the secretary fading into one of disgust.

Irrationally, I responded back with my own glare. He was hardly the one to be angry at me, I was the victim here, or potential victim anyway. I was the one worried about being murdered, his ire struck me as suddenly very undeserved and my good mood crackled under the fury of my temper.

"By all means," I said as quietly as I could, "Find Mr. Cullen another class."

I strode out of the room, ignoring the pained expression on the vampire's face as I passed him and a breeze of air blew my scent in his direction. I was so mad I didn't even pause to think about how dangerous this was. I arrived at my locker with my temper flaring, my fingers mixed up the combination and I banged it with my fist when it wouldn't open. Harder than I'd intended actually, the pain flared.

Great.

"Hey," a voice intruded. It was different than before, silky. Seductive perhaps, the voice of a hunter pursing prey.

"I don't want to talk to you," I said, staring angrily at my locker. There was no mistaking the melodic quality to the voice. Edward Cullen was leaning over me, his elbow poised on my neighbor's locker as he examined me.

I took a breath and slowly put in my combination, paying close attention to the digits and trying to make my hands not tremble. The locker opened this time and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Look, it's nothing...where are you going?" he asked as I threw my books into my bag and hurried away from him, slamming the locker door behind me.

"I have to catch the bus," I said trying to escape.

But it was impossible, I knew their speed and strength. He was right beside me as I pulled my way through the crowd of people that were heading to their cars. Being me, I managed to trip over someone's tuba case and began falling headfirst into the pavement before a cold hand grabbed my shoulder.

"Don't touch me," I said flinching away and dropping to the ground on my knee.

"Why the rush," he said smoothly.

I looked up, his eyes were black as night and I fought to breathe. Hungry and penetrating, he seemed fascinated by me and his attention sent shivers down my spine.

"I have to catch the bus," I mumbled trying to pull myself away from his eyes.

"I could give you a ride home," he said quickly, his expression not shifting from the smooth composure.

But then a change came over him, he seemed to shake himself and the hard glare from class returned. He hated me again. The offer stood between us but he seemed like a man recovering from temporary insanity.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said, lifting my bag from the ground and walking away.

"Yeah, probably not," he agreed darkly.

"Edward," a small girl, the vampire with short brown hair I'd seen eating with him, she looked curiously at the pair of us. Her eyes drifting away and staring ahead blankly.

"Bye," I muttered, passing the vampire girl and hurrying away.

I got to my bus and found a seat towards the back, clutching my backpack close to my chest and struggling to breathe. But despite this, my eyes seemed drawn to Edward Cullen. Maybe my terror made me watch him, but I didn't think that was it. My brown eyes seemed oddly focused on the vampire as he was quickly joined by the other members of his family and they piled into a silver car. They seemed to be talking angrily, as they sped away from the lot, but I thought I glimpsed Edward's gaze in my direction as they drove away.

Perhaps I interested him as much as he interested me. Because, despite the improbability, I'd managed to escape alive.

* * *

How I managed to go to school the next day was anyone's guess. Why was perhaps an even bigger question. Let's call it stupidity, or perhaps some sort of latent suicidal tendency. Either way, Mr. Winters once again dropped me off at the school doors and once again I entered wondering if this was going to be my last day in Forks.

I needn't have bothered. My list of potential murders was decreased by one as my lab partner seemed to have vanished. I'll admit to spending the subsequent days wondering if he was simply devoting his time to planning the perfect murder, but as a week passed and I continued to breathe, this became less and less likely.

Still, it was strange how often I caught myself thinking of him. Not in the paranoid, I wonder if he's coming to kill me manner, but more detached and even curious.

Curiosity killed the cat right?

I tried to remember this truth as I kept my nose down and did my best to blend in with my new friends. I was acing history, to my surprise Mike was hedging toward asking me on a date (which wasn't a welcome event) and I had even managed to avoid injuring myself, accidentally or otherwise. Edward's family's probing stares, directed at me occasionally, were the only reminder that things weren't as normal as they appeared.

Of course this all came to an end when the vampire occupying my thoughts suddenly decided to appear again, interrupting a perfectly good lunch.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you," Jessica whispered in my ear. She seemed oddly excited by this.

"So," I demanded, knowing that the vampire's sensitive hearing would make our words plainly audible to the bunch seated several tables away.

"He never pays attention to any girls, jeez," Jessica replied, her tone a little catty.

I suppose I had been rude, "I don't know why" I said grumpily.

Jessica shook her head, "You are _so_ weird, any other girl would be over-the-moon happy."

"Bella doesn't like his type," Mike butted in, sounding a little happy about the direction of this conversation.

"What type? Amazingly good-looking, smart and totally rich," Jessica raised the fingers on her palm as she ticked off Edward's more appealing qualities.

How about the drinking blood aspect? That was one trait I'd love to ask about; I doubted even Jessica would be able to overlook that little flaw.

I struggled to find the teenage slang to express a good excuse, "He thinks he's God's gift," I stated, pulling from a movie that the other girls and I had seen over the weekend.

"Tell me about it," Jessica agreed, "Like, no one is good enough for him," she nodded, obviously deciding that defaming was more interesting than defending.

I nodded, setting my face into an expression of agreement.

My brown eyes glanced upward, meeting Edward Cullen's petulant expression. That's what overhearing gets you, I thought.

His challenging stare was the only confirmation I needed to know that Biology class is going to be interesting.

It must have been my continued existence that left me so brazen. I should have been terrified, it would only take one wrong move to have him snap and kill, and not only me but other innocent people. I should have left town, I should have been grateful I'd survived this long.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Fearless

* * *

I was early for Biology having left the cafeteria before the others on the pretense that I forgot a book in my locker. Mike seemed to view any of our time alone together as some sort of pre-dating, somehow the short walk to Biology had turned into him trying to carry my bag or hold my hand, and so I'd been doing my best to keep that interaction to a minimum. Our teacher was preparing some sort of experiment and it was only me and a few over-achievers in the class room. This left my mind to wander.

My thoughts, with no surprise drifted to Edward Cullen. It's a sick sort of curiosity, I decided. It's just— in all my years (and that's saying something) I've never known a vampire who could control that dark thirst.

Even when they try, even if they want to, they can kill you even when they profess to love you.

I felt suddenly cold as a chill ripped up my spine, bringing with it the cold memories of an icy hand sliding up my back, a familiar yet terrifying voice whispering in my ear.

_Sorry, I can't control myself_

"Sorry," a voice said.

I bolted upright shaking away shivers of deja vous

I whipped my head around and exhaled a breath, "What— I didn't see you come in," I stuttered.

Edward Cullen chocked his head like he was some adorable puppy, _yeah_, one that would like to suck my blood.

"About the other day, if I offended you. I apologize."

Based on his speech I guessed he was at least over a hundred.

"I wasn't offended," I told him honestly. I had actually been thankful, underneath the numb surprise that I was still alive.

He didn't believe me, the way he focused on me contained some sort of frustration for him. His amber eyes stared at me probing, his face turning slightly as if trying to capture something difficult to hear

"Still, I'm sorry about that," he said, rubbing his forehead with his hands. "It's just we shouldn't be friends."

I wonder how he gets away with this attitude.

"Who said I want to be your friend," I said. And it's the truth, I want nothing to do with him or his clan. I'm here for one reason, and once I'm eighteen I'm gone.

His eyes are very light amber, I notice now that we're so close. Really, almost honey colored and surprisingly realistic. I look for traces of contacts, as some vampires make use of modern inventions to blend in more. (Wolves in sheep clothing.) But they look so seamless, I'd almost believe they were real.

"What?" he asked and I realized I've been staring.

"Nothing," I pulled away quickly and stare back at the front. Our bodies had gotten closer too, I hadn't even realized it. We rested our hands on the tabletop at the same time and pulled away quickly before our skin could touch.

And then I was staring at his eyes again. I couldn't look away and a nervous terror made me wonder if he had some ability to draw my focus. He wasn't even feigning breathing and his light eyes darkened some. It's so real, I'd swear his eyes are gold...although quickly shifting to black.

"This is very bad," he said aloud.

"Worse," I whisper.

We both looked away guiltily as people came in, interrupting this odd magnetic pull. I frantically tried to think of a way to get out of class. And running was topping the list. I took a deep breath, something my desk mate couldn't afford. I could get through this. Almost compulsively I rubbed the burn marks on my wrist. They had faded to thin white lines and no pain. I missed the reassurance, and thought for a moment of snagging Mr. Winter's keys again although the gesture would only be masochistic and hardly useful.

Somehow we both managed to sit through the movie and lecture, being careful not to even glance in the other's direction, and when class was over, Edward once again left quicker than was normal.

A firm voice in my head said that I was dead. That tonight he'd sneak into my room and tomorrow I'd be found dead from some strange accident. I'd pushed it too far. I overstepped my luck. There was no way this odd self control could last. I'd been a fool for thinking that it could.

Vampires can't stop for a singer, they simply can't control themselves.

A small part of me felt oddly sad at that notion. And it wasn't my lost chance or my life I was mourning, a part of me had been hoping I was wrong. It was like Marius always said, I wanted to believe in the possibility of change. That anything could be good.

No matter how often I've been proven wrong.

* * *

The Winters's home had improved some over the last week. It used to smell of mold and sickness, now it smelled like a deodorizer whose scent was marketed as 'Ocean Spray'. I've been to the ocean and this heavy scent is nothing like it. But surprisingly Mrs. Winters seemed to be fond of it, and I suppose she's the one dying. If she wants the living room to reek of phony ocean, well it's up to her.

It's less messy too. The dishes washed, the laundry cleaned, the plants watered. It looks like a home, if an impersonal one. It's not as if we're going to hang pictures on the wall of our time together, I think the faded wedding picture above the mantel is the only photograph in the entire house. But I get the feeling that the Winters like me. Maybe I'm meeting their expectations better than they had any right to expect. Maybe it's because I'm not a little girl, and we can all live together like three impersonal strangers who occasionally run into each other on the way to the bathroom.

Their house is a good distance out of town and I'm the last person on the bus, getting home an hour after school lets out. It'd actually be quicker if I walked, but I don't mind the circling drive through Forks as we stop at all the houses along the way, and I use the time to do my homework. I pity my teachers, they must think I have terrible penmanship. But penmanship is a lost art in this generation, I'm likely no less legible than my peers.

I settled my backpack by the door and glanced at Mrs. Winters carefully to make certain she's still alive. She grows tired around noon and sleeps most of the day in a faded recliner. She was still breathing at any rate, so I crossed into the kitchen, peeking through the cupboards to try and decide what to make for dinner.

It would be my last meal, if my expectations were correct. I'd die tonight. So I might as well make it something I'd enjoy.

When Mr. Winters entered around six, I had been expecting him and some pasta was draining in the sink. He nodded at me, likely a greeting. But for all his gruff, I noticed that he was gentle with his wife, and he pulled out a tray to set her food on. We both knew she wouldn't eat it, but she likes to play with her fork and sample it. I thought she was checking to see if I was cooking well enough for her husband, but she hasn't found fault yet.

Mr. Winters flicked on the television to a news channel, I knew it would be the only noise during dinner. We both glanced periodically at Mrs. Winters as we ate. She seemed to be having more trouble than usual, her face was locked in a pinched expression and she didn't even bother to pick up her silverware.

I grew more worried when I noticed that one side of her chest didn't seem to be moving as much as the other, and her breathing had slowed.

"Mrs. Winters," I said softly, interrupting the relative silence. Mr. Winters looked at me in shock, almost as if I've jumped up and started yelling. "Are you alright," I questioned, leaving my dinner and moving closer to her.

She opened her mouth but no noise came out. I didn't need her words, her face was filled with fear and her breathing had grown shallower. Her face was losing color.

"She needs to go to the hospital," I told Mr. Winters.

Without a word he gathered his coat and lifted his keys from the hook. It took the two of us to get Mrs. Winters out of the chair, and we practically carried her outside and to the truck. A light drizzle was dripping down on us, and Mrs. Winters clutched my arm tightly as her husband opened the truck's door for her.

I helped her in and began to pull away, but her arm held on like a vice. I looked at her face and without needing to ask I slipped into the cab and sat beside her. Mr. Winter started the engine and got the truck in gear, in less than a minute we were bumping quickly down the slick pavement. I couldn't see the speedometer to know if Mr. Winters was speeding, but I hoped he was. I should have been shocked, riding on energy of such an intense shift. Only moments ago Mr. Winters and I were eating our dinner and watching the news. Now we're rushing down a wet road, hoping to make it the hospital before she stopped breathing.

I should have been surprised at this turn, but I wasn't. Life can swiftly fall apart, this I've learned. I had expected to die tonight, but it might not be my life that was cut short.

Mrs. Winters was still holding my hand, almost as if she were the little girl and I the mother. But I didn't mind and held her palm securely.

He must have been speeding because we made it to the hospital in record time, the bright lights that illuminated the outside of the building seemed to send the evening into sharper focus. The weak drizzle has turned into a solid drenching and we all felt half drowned by the time we floundered into the Emergency Room.

"She can't breathe," I said quickly to a nurse in pink scrubs.

And suddenly everything was a flurry of motion and I found myself amazed as nurses and orderlies rushed Mrs. Winters onto a bed and attached devices to her. I didn't know what half of them were, something about modern medicine always hits me as bizarre and incomprehensible.

It's hard to imagine that anyone dies these days considering all the vaccines, syrups and pills that are commonplace. I remember going into a drugstore once and seeing a medicine labeled as some sort of cure-all for the Flu. And tasting of cherries, of all things. I stared at if feeling like I was seeing the fountain of youth, so mythical and elusive, and here it was in common drugstore. The other people didn't seem to think much of it, but then they probably hadn't watched the bodies piling up as the illness ripped through the town taking down people in droves.

"Can you tell me what happened," a nice voice interrupted my brief spell of memories.

"I think..." I trailed off uncomfortably as I met the amber eyes of a handsome young doctor.

Vampire.

I physically flinched back before I managed to compose myself. Why the hell is a vampire at a hospital?

"Are you alright?" the vampire asked, sounding actually concerned as I rubbed my wrist compulsively and tried to breathe normally.

"Er, you're a doctor?" I couldn't help but ask. It seemed insane. How could a vampire work near blood, people? Surely, Forks must have been losing people by the dozens every week if they are housing such a large population of killers. How are they staying here?

He smiled warmly, "Yes, I'm Dr. Cullen."

"Cullen," I said the word hesitantly. Not the Cullen I'd been expecting to see tonight.

My glaze flickered behind this 'doctor' as the nurses made some commotion and I noticed that Mrs. Winters was still struggling to breath. My eyes moved to find Mr. Winters but he was standing corpse-like, not responding to the questions being thrown at him. He was staring at his wife and I realized how much he loved her. I pitied him.

"She just started having trouble breathing tonight," I said, I couldn't look at the vampire as the words left my lips. I know I'm asking him for his help, to save her, and if felt wrong to entrust him with anything, least of all something as important as human life.

"One side of her chest wasn't breathing right, She has lung cancer. I don't really know what kind, It's terminal...but I just..." I trailed of, feeling stupid for not knowing more. I never thought it would matter. I'd always known she was going to die.

I didn't even know her first name.

"It will be alright," the vampire comforted me. "Based on what I've seen I think she has a pleural effusion, that means that there is liquid in the lungs. It's fairly common with lung cancer patients. We can drain the liquid for now," he gave me a gentle smile before he turned back and threw himself into the huddle of people that were examining Mrs. Winters.

I moved to stand next to Mr. Winters. He still looked lost, like he couldn't decide how he had gotten here.

"It's going to be okay," I told him. "The doctor will help her."

I said it, and part of me even believed it. How sick is that? But the world was beginning to feel like it had turned upside down. Edward Cullen and his surprising restraint, Dr. Cullen saving human lives, and even a family of dangerous monsters living in a town of unsuspecting people and yet no one seemed to be dying, no suspicious rumors.

I really wanted some answers, because everything I'd seen here was throwing my well-established notions into turmoil. Vampires drink blood, they kill and maim with no restraint, they destroy even the things they consider precious.

But wasn't I alive, all my predictions and yet I was still breathing.

Mr. Winters slumped dangerously and I helped him to a seat along the wall. He sat down but he was shaking like a child, and once again I felt so much older than them. I took his hand comfortingly, and rubbed small circles with my thumb to calm him. It's an old pressure point, and he settled almost immediately.

If only everything was so easy to sooth.

* * *

The next day at school was hard to take. I was exhausted from being at the hospital most of the night and I'd spent the remainder or my time alone at the Winters home wondering if a vampire was going to come and kill me.

He never did.

I wondered how obvious my exhaustion was.

"You look terrible!" Mike said for a greeting.

That bad, I thought to myself.

Mike must have sensed my displeasure because he quickly stuttered, "I mean, you look good, I mean, well it just looks like— not that you don't always look good—"

I hastily waved away his attempts at placating my nonexistent vanity. "Just tired, I was up all night."

"Yeah, know how that is. One time I was stuck watching this _Dr. Who_ marathon all night, just couldn't stop."

I stared at him blankly, do people my age really watch television that much? Still I smiled and nodded. "Glad you understand," I muttered.

-AAA-

I was really not prepared for Cullen when I got to Biology. Once again I've been labeled the school's bad girl after my constant falling asleep in class had the school abuzz about what I must have been up to the previous night. The stories ranged from the tame to the extreme (Apparently I'm a frequent visitor to some biker bar and was hauled away by the cops after a fight there last night, spent the whole evening in lock up.) I didn't suppose it really mattered what the truth was, so I let the rumors drift around me. People always believe what they want anyway.

I was early for Biology, it was becoming a trend. The classroom was much quieter than the cafeteria and I'd been hoping that I could sleep for five minutes or so before class started. I settled my backpack on the lab table and hid my head in the shadow it created. The cool surface of the table felt almost soothing as I grasped onto a few minutes of sleep.

Blink.

"Class is starting," a very soft voice told me.

I closed my eyes tighter and tried to block out the sound.

"I'd be happy to let you sleep but I think Mr. Banner might get annoyed."

I rubbed my eyes as I sat up, feeling more tired than before my little nap. I was far too tired to be nervous around Edward Cullen, if he wanted to kill me, he could go ahead. At least that way I might get some sleep.

He seemed amused as he watched me blink my eyes tiredly.

"Some of us have to sleep," I said crankily.

He tilted his head, looking puzzled at my statement.

"Met your _Dad_" I said, struggling not to yawn. I couldn't help how ridiculous their charade seemed to me. Lack of sleep was making me reckless.

"He mentioned that you were in the ER," he commented.

I glanced around at the students who are looking in my direction and whispering.

"Likely recovering from a drug overdose or something, right?"

He snickered, amused at my comment. I found myself oddly satisfied that I could make him laugh. Somehow today this strange dance we've been playing seemed funny. Here we are, both of us trying to play the normal teenager, when we're anything but. It brought an odd sense of kinship, because even though I'd like to think I'm a little more normal than him- who am I kidding?

"So, not going to kill me today?" I asked him bluntly. I mentally tried to find a way to censure my thoughts from leaving my mouth.

He seemed startled by the question and paused before answering.

"No _today,_" he said hesitantly. The emphasis on today wasn't lost on me.

"Good," I said softly, before lowering my head onto my arm and feigning interest while I slept through most of the class.

* * *

School was finally over and I wondered what was going on at the Winters. When I left for school this morning, Mrs. Winters was still in the hospital having the liquid drained out of her lungs. Maybe she'd have to stay there for a couple days until they fixed whatever needed fixing. I didn't know if Mr. Winters was going to bother coming home or not. I supposed it didn't make much difference if he was there or not. It wasn't as if he was much company. But if I didn't have to cook dinner, I might swing by a restaurant and order myself something to eat.

The bus was loading but I purposefully lagged back and settled myself on a cement wall that surrounded some landscaping. My fellow classmates were rushing about, getting into cars and pulling away from school fast. A few people shouted my name in passing, saying they would see me tomorrow. The school parking lot looked like a dangerous place with so many new drivers moving quickly in such a small area. I'm rather glad I don't drive. Or so I told myself since I didn't have a car anyway.

It had been raining in the morning but the moisture must have evaporated and the clouds in the sky were white and fluffy. They were still obscuring the sun for the most part, but I could see small patches of blue sky and it felt like awhile since it had been so nice. Maybe spring was even coming, the thick jacket I was wearing felt unnecessary.

"You're going to miss your bus," he told me.

I should have expected him to be here, I tilted my neck a little to the left and could see Edward's concerned eyes looking down on me.

"Thought I'd walk today," I told him, "It's such a beautiful day."

He looked at the weak clouds with some slight disapproval. I suppose sunny days did make things difficult for him and his family.

"It's a long walk," he said casually.

For a moment I tensed wondering if he knew where I lived. He must.

"Not really," I rose to my feet and swung my bag across my shoulders.

As I was walking away I could feel his eyes on me, and couldn't stop myself from glancing back at him. It was strange, but somehow I got the feeling that there was more than blood lust in his eyes. It was incomprehensible, unnameable. I felt confused whenever I saw him now. I'd pretty much doomed myself to death that first day in Biology. And yet...

"Bye," I said softly.

It really was a beautiful day, for Forks anyway. The temperature had risen just enough that most of the scattered ice and snow that hadn't already melted was disappearing quickly. I removed my coat and bunched it up so that it could be tucked into my bag. With the light sweater I was wearing, I felt freer than I had in awhile. It was best to enjoy this, as the warm spell wasn't likely to last.

My tiredness seemed to have melted with the snow, and I caught myself smiling. I almost stopped, but then I let myself go. Why shouldn't I smile? For the first time in a long time I had a life that was my own. No Marius to tell me what to do, no Ako to scold, no Bari needing my attention, no Nomti to disappoint, no one to follow me, no one looking to me for guidance. No expectations at all, no weary century heavy lies to maintain.

So I was smiling, and enjoying the beautiful brushes of sunlight that landed on my face. I had left much of the town behind, and was walking on a winding road listening to the birds that were making noise in the tall pines. I built up some warmth during the walk and felt oddly refreshed after the stuffiness of the classroom.

I was happy, which is probably the reason I became careless. I forgot how fleeting life can be, I didn't even see the car.

It came speeding around the corner, moving far too fast. It hugged the edge of the road, and had this been any other day it probably wouldn't have been much of a problem, except I was walking at the edge of the road.

I only had a moment to gasp. And somehow I couldn't believe that this was how I was going to die. It seemed unfair, and so unexpected. Somehow the idea of human/vehicle collision had never factored into my life expectancy.

And, while I didn't know why my thoughts drifted to him, I felt bad for Edward Cullen. I guess he was right, he wouldn't be killing me today, or any day after all.

And then it hit.

But not from the front like I'd been expecting. Something slammed into my from the side, sweeping me across the road as I struggled to catch the breath that had been pushed from my lungs. I didn't even register the pair of shoulder that I clung to as the wind swept past me. I was moving through the woods quickly, watching the trees sweep past.

And just as suddenly it stopped and I dropped to the ground, falling in an undignified heap. My breath still seemed to come in harsh gasps and I wished that I could compose myself before looking up.

I noticed his shoes first. And I never paid much attention to fashion, someone in my position really can't. But they were a brown leather, not tennis shoes like other young people wore.

And then I met his face.

Edward.

He seemed startled, as if he couldn't believe that I was here anymore than I could believe that he was. It was like we were two terrified creatures who had stumbled upon each other in the dark. Our eyes seemed drawn to each other once again, only my strangled breathing broke apart the silence that had descended on us.

The noise seemed to startle him out of this trance.

"Are you alright," he said softly. He wouldn't look at my eyes anymore and seemed focused on the rising and falling of my chest. Maybe he was listening for something.

"Fine," I said weakly. "Why did you...?"

I couldn't wrap my head around the idea. Why would he save me, why would he care if I was alright? How would he even know? Did he want to save all my blood for himself? That must be it...and yet I felt certain that such a logical excuse wasn't true.

He looked away.

He'd have to kill me now, I knew this with a certainty. He'd only bought me borrowed time. The Volturi don't tolerate humans knowing about their kind. Surely a vampire as old as Edward must know that. And even more importantly, as far as the Cullens are concerned, he couldn't destroy whatever family they had created. Because as much as I wanted to call it a coven or a clan, I could tell what they really have is family. It's an awkward, mismatched bunch of people. But my own family is no better, maybe even worse.

He knew all this...and he was still hesitating. Even now, when we were alone in the woods, even though I'm just some kid who no one would miss, even though taking my life would slacken the burning thirst that turns his throat raw.

"It's okay," I said gently.

I wasn't certain what I had said. Had I signed my death certificate? It wasn't okay!

"I mean, don't worry. You didn't ruin the big secret. I already knew," I said softly, but I knew he could hear.

"What!" he said, his voice sharp and resounding in the air around us.

"You know, the whole vampire thing." Somehow the word vampire seemed foreign on my tongue, I'd been thinking it for so long but hadn't said it aloud. And it seemed strange to say the word so casually, in my family it's always uttered in the same context as a curse.

He wasn't prepared for that. "Are you afraid," he finally asked.

I meant to say yes, it's true after all. But somehow the word that came out of my mouth was, "No."

He stared at me, almost angry. I don't know why I said it, but somehow I'm not afraid of him. I should be, history has taught me nothing but the reckless destruction that all vampires bring about.

And yet for whatever reason Edward Cullen is different. Not his desires, but this strange self control.

I was drawn to it.

"You should be," he said darkly.

"I know," I muttered miserably. But somehow I wasn't, he'd left me alive so long.

"How do you know?" he probed, he seemed oddly fascinated with me as we continued to stand together.

"I've met your kind before," I said. It was an over simplification, more than Edward could know.

His gold eyes glowed with the challenge my deception raised.

"Your eyes," I said, as I stared into them. "Are they...naturally that color?" It was the only thing that made sense anymore.

"Yes," he said, pulling away from me and putting a distance between us.

"How..." I didn't come closer to him, but I was shocked by the strange urge that made me want to.

"My family and I are different from the others of our kind," he said slowly. "We don't drink human blood."

I was perplexed by the words that had come from his mouth, almost as if he were speaking gibberish.

"Pardon me?" I inquired, my skepticism must have shown on my face.

He watched me carefully once again, his eyes pouring over my face, "We drink the blood of animals."

I didn't really believe him.

"If you knew- why? Why are you still here? Do you really want to die?" he demanded, annoyed by the plain expression of disbelief.

"Where am I going to go?" I asked softly. "Where can I run that you can't follow?"

He took another step away.

"I'm not going to chase you," he said softly.

"You will," I said weakly. Nothing could end a bloodlust except death. Maybe I still existed because of his dedication to his family's curious diet. But no sense of morality could last forever against instinct.

I knew from experience… there was no way that Edward could. No matter how much I might want to think Edward was different, I was stupid to forget all I knew.

Something of my thoughts must have shown on my face, Edward looked almost pained.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said with such a gentle, caring voice, I really wanted to believe that he meant it. I didn't know why, but it filled a certain part of me that I hadn't realized was empty.

The sun was dipping below the hills, coating us in the soft light of twilight. The trees and the needles under our feet released the thick smell of pine and standing, as we were, so far from the rushing sounds of traffic and civilization, it was almost easy to believe that the rest of time had slipped away. Time is such a heavy burden to bear, so many lifetimes of living and dying.

I turned back, but while I had been staring into the sunlight his face had never left mine.

"What are you?" he asked.

I wondered if I'd ever been more transparent, did my charade fool anyone. Or was it always so obvious what a broken thing I was.

"I'm…just an old soul," I said trying to force a smile.

He found it funny, maybe he didn't understand.

"Want to come over for dinner?" He asked suddenly.

"Dinner?" I speculated nervously.

He must have found his choice of words funny, "Yeah, Esme is actually a really good cook. She should be in full swing by now. Your guardians are probably still at the hospital...you have to eat right?"

I had thought about eating out, but this wasn't what I had in mind.

Edward's brow rose, and …was there the glint of challenge in his eyes? Or was it my imagination? Or maybe it was my own subtle defiance that made me want to go.

"Okay," I said, more out of a desire not to show cowardice than anything else.

He held out his hand to me, cautiously, but this time I was certain that there was testing, challenging quality to the gesture.

I grasped his cold hand, shivering a bit now in the evening air that was descending. I had a feeling I was going to need my jacket now, but I stayed very still.

"This will be faster," He said.

"How will— "

He moved so fast I was swung over his back and we were riding the wind before I could finish the sentence.

"You better hold on tight," he shouted over the rising noise of the air flying past.

I'd lost my mind, I knew it, I was riding this enticing new theory that maybe vampires weren't the bloodthirsty fiends I had always known. It would be a short ride, must be. It couldn't be that they had a choice, just as humans did. But I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight. I could smell his intoxicating sweet scent, it swept around me enveloping in its odor, so rich it set my teeth on edge— in the way that their scent can always do. I was certain it was probably nice, but when it's been the last thing you've smelled so many times...well the odor loses its charm.

He stopped suddenly, and I knew we'd traveled a large distance in the space of a few moments. I couldn't see the sun anymore, it was blocked by the thick ring of trees that surrounds the Cullen's home.

I suddenly felt as if I'd taken a very drastic step, and I struggled to maintain my calm. Edward was also well aware of the awkwardness and he sent me a cautious glance.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," he offered.

Ah, escape, brilliant.

"It's a great idea," an excited, perky voice intruded. "I'm glad you were in time, Edward. This is much better than the other way." Alice, or so I'd learned her name to be, was poised in the open door with a cheerful grin and a welcoming gesture. "I've already told everyone you're coming," she added.

Doom, Marius warned me that my major flaw, or at least one of my major flaws, is my belief that 'people' change, people being a loose definition of the word. And my inability to turn down a challenge. And a complete lack of self preservation. And the tendency to rely on intuition. And— well the list is fairly long. If he were here, he'd probably say that it serves me right if I end up on the menu. Of course I'd rather not think about what Marius would do if he were here, it would probably end up the way most events with Marius and vampires go: bloodshed, fire, untimely deaths.

I followed Edward inside, and Alice directed us into the kitchen where the family was gathered, looking as warm and welcoming as a snow storm.

"Bella, good to see you again," Dr. Cullen said.

"Er, yes, hello Dr. Cullen," I stuttered.

"Hello, dear," a woman added. She fluttered beside Dr. Cullen, her hands nervously at her waist.

"This is Esme," Edward introduced, "My mother, for all intents and purposes. And well, you've met the others."

I knew them all from school and nodded slowly.

"So Bella knew all about us," Alice said excitedly. "That makes this last week so much more interesting. Even I didn't know that," she chatted casually while the rest of us stood awkwardly.

"Yes, that is an interesting question," Rosalie said looking harpy-like as she towered over the meeting with her arms crossed.

Jasper frowned as well and Alice placed a small restraining hand on his shoulder, drawing him back to stand beside her.

"Yes, forgive our curiosity, Bella, but I'm certain you can understand why we'd be concerned." Dr. Cullen had a nice fatherly way of making you feel guilty even when you hadn't done anything wrong.

"I'm not going to tell anyone about you, if that is what you're worried about," I said with a frown, "What would be the point, they'd think I'm insane."

They shared a silent sort of communication as I finished the statement.

"How exactly do you know about us," Rosalie demanded, obviously not being distracted from her purpose. She moved her hands to her hips, Emmett who had stood beside her, looked faintly amused by her ire and chuckled deeply at her fierce posture.

"I've met your kind before," I repeated for their benefit, although Alice didn't seem to need information, she merely nodded her head.

Rosalie merely raised one of her well-shaped eyebrows. Apparently she wasn't as easy to appease as Edward and Alice.

"Why do you think I'm in foster care?" I asked her with a bit of venom in my tone. I wasn't particularly mad, but people like Rosalie only respond to strength and I needed to be strong to get through this.

That seemed to shock her, and she drew back. Beside me Edward flinched, maybe he had been hoping I'd had a _distant _glimpse at his kind.

"I'm sorry...your parents?" Esme said, her voice tender.

"Not exactly," I said, "My…family, for all intents and purpose." I used Edward's phrasing with a slight glance at the vampire.

"You must have been young," Carlisle said gently.

"It doesn't really matter." They probably thought I was lying, or perhaps in denial. But they didn't know my family, it actually didn't matter.

"Edward said that you don't drink human blood, so..." I shrugged then watched them closely to see if I could detect any falsehood. But their similar amber eyes told me the truth more plainly their expressions.

"That's very understanding," Carlisle added, his warm eyes seemed more than a little curious. He was a doctor maybe he was busy wondering, like all the other doctors had, if I had some sort of psychological defect. But he was vampire, so— throwing stones, glass house, you get the picture.

"You must be hungry," Esme interrupted her husband's questioning gaze and approached me hesitantly. "I make a meal, hate to waste the groceries. Usually it just goes to various people and places..."

"Esme's quite the humanitarian," Edward quipped.

She batted his shoulder in a motherly fashion, "Well, it will be fun to see someone enjoy it. We never use the dining room, well not for.."

"Not for eating," I added.

Esme looked hesitant, "Yes."

The dining room proved to be perhaps one of the best rooms of the house, at least in my opinion. Of course my good mood might also have had something to do with the fact that Rosalie and Emmett had decided not to join our little party. The blonde beauty had gone to her room in a manner that could only be called pouting, and her burly husband had followed with a smirk.

"Dinner's almost ready," Esme said, brushing her hands on my shoulder gently. She seemed to have wanted to reach out to me since we'd met, and oddly enough her gentle touch hadn't sent chills down my spine. I was almost sad to see her dart back into the kitchen, Dr. Cullen following after her steps.

The first thing I noticed about the dining room was the table and the chairs. They were old, made from hand tools, probably constructed long before anyone even dreamed of an electric saw. There is a subtle uniqueness to each piece when they are made the old ways. When I settled myself in one of the chairs I felt oddly composed. I missed the world that made things like this. Sometimes this new time seemed to move so fast. Cars that reached upwards of one hundred miles per hour, rockets that broke the Earth's gravity and landed on the moon, information sent and received in the blink of an eye. Everything was fast.

I looked up to meet Jasper's curious gaze.

"So, what's your ability," I asked him directly.

I was starting to put together the hints I'd been given. Alice had been the first, what with her strange knowledge of things she couldn't know. Jasper made me wonder if only because he seemed to pull from the air, almost as if he were reading something. Most covens had a few vampires with abilities, at least the strong ones did.

"Jasper can sense emotions," Alice said plopping down on his left.

Her blond companion sent her a questioning look.

"It's alright, she would have figured it out. And look, she doesn't mind at all."

"Sense or manipulate?" I asked, clarification was important in such instances.

"Both," Jasper said bluntly. He didn't seem to want to meet my eyes.

Edward growled suddenly, and I couldn't help but flinch. It was with some relief that I realized he was staring at Jasper and not me.

"Don't think of her as a mission, I won't let that happen."

I felt as if I'd missed part of the conversation.

Alice laughed, which sparked everyone to look at her curiously. "It's nothing," she said, waving her hand in a surprisingly human gesture.

I narrowed my eyes, "So you can see the future."

"Mostly," she nodded, then she cocked her head in the same irritating way that Edward did when he wanted to seem innocent. "Only you're a little blurry," she said squinting her eyes. "I just saw it in time, you're lucky Edward is so fast."

I shrugged off her mention of my almost death. Her saving my life didn't mean as much as she thought it did. "Maybe your second sight needs glasses," I said with a vacant expression. I've never been fond of Seers, have a few bad experiences and you start to understand that seeing the future isn't so great.

"It's interesting having you around," Alice said, not seeming to mind my negative tone. "The future gets so distorted, it's almost like it's changing too fast."

"You see pathways," I said suddenly, relaxing some. Path seers are much more tolerable, they only see the path people are on, but futures can change. It's the ones who see the 'immutable hand of fate' that get on my nerves.

"You seem to know a lot about vampires," Jasper commented.

I grew very still, it didn't take a genius to read his tone, and I was starting to understand Edward's reaction earlier. There was at least one Cullen who wasn't taking my enlightenment well. I stared at Jasper and wondered what it was about him that seemed familiar. Perhaps that was the first flaw, trusting feelings around a master emotion manipulator, but I couldn't help but sense that I knew him, or that he reminded me of someone.

It wasn't until I spotted the thin white scars edging the collar of his shirt that I began to understand. Jasper reeked of war, the scent of it clung to him in a way that decades, centuries of death and destruction can. I couldn't say for certain how old he was, but whatever he had seen had jaded him in a way that the others weren't. The other Cullens saw me as a possible liability, but to Jasper's war torn heart I was nothing but a danger. And something that needed to be put down.

This complicated things.

"You're from the South, aren't you," I said sadly, referring to the bloody turmoil that I knew had ripped apart the Southern states, and still did in some places.

His eyes narrowed, and I swallowed nervously, I hadn't allayed any of his concerns.

Edward placed a protective hand between the two of us, I glanced at him wondering how he could interpret the tension between his brother and I so well. And why was he once again trying to protect me.

"Here, hope you like Cornish hens, they were just too adorable..." Esme trailed off weakly as she entered the room, both arms laden with enough food to feed two football teams. She frowned when she identified the fierce expressions. Both Jasper and Edward were facing off in an argument that I couldn't hear.

"What's the matter," she demanded. It was scary how much like a mother she could sound. It's been a long time since I've had a mother but even I felt shamed by her strict eyes.

The conversation between them dropped to a level lower than I could hear and I stood feeling very much an outsider while their lips moved silently.

I frowned. "I can guess, you know."

Edward turned to me a similar frown on his face.

"Somewhere along the lines of killing me and making it look like an accident." I tried to keep calm by being cavalier, "Seems an awful lot of work, it's not like there is anyone to miss me." The phrase should sound all wounded and pitiable, but it was just a fact, plain and simple, so I said it thusly.

"Don't talk like that," Edward said, his eyes growing dark, his expression reverting to the strange revulsion I'd seen when I'd first met him.

"Why not...?"

Edward didn't answer, he pushed himself away from me, leaning back in his chair and glaring at Jasper.

I felt confused, "I get it," I said speaking to Edward, "The… family," I said the word awkwardly but I could feel it "It's important. Jasper's just trying to protect it." Did he think I was dumb, that I couldn't see the obviousness of it?

"But not at the cost of an innocent life," Carlisle stated firmly, arriving from the kitchen so silently I hadn't noticed him there.

"Exactly," Esme said, brushing a hand through Jasper's hair. "But it is sweet, dear."

I doubt many mothers get the chance to tell their sons that premeditated murder is a 'sweet' but unnecessary gesture. Still, the irony of such a moment was lost on me considering a full plate had been set down and I was just realizing that my usual dinner hour had come and gone. And Esme's cooking... it was difficult not to drool as the rich, heady scent caught my nose. How long had it been since I've had a meal like this? True I was a decent cook, but my skills have always proven themselves best in adversity. I'm hardly a chef, my cooking doesn't demonstrate any artistry. It's filling and suits its purpose but Esme's food reminded me that sometimes a meal could be an event, not just an action necessary for survival.

"Bon Appetite," she encouraged.

As if I needed that, the first bite was like heaven. Forget it. Even if Jasper decided to kill me, after this meal it would be worth it.

I must have expressed my enjoyment in some audible way as Esme smiled and settled in to watch me eat, she seemed completely content and pleased with herself.

"Hmm, it's delicious," I managed to tell her between bites.

She smiled wider, in that strangely inhuman way that vampires can, "I'm so glad. I often worry it won't be good. I rely so much on smell to see if it's coming along."

Carlisle took a seat next to his wife, he was an easy sort of man. He was happy so long as she was happy. Really all of the Cullens were surprisingly well matched. Even Jasper and Alice, who had seemed like such an odd pairing at school, I was starting to see how each supported the other in some way. And Rosalie and Emmett, opposites in many ways and yet perfectly balanced. Even Edward, though alone, was still part of the family. His and Jasper's disagreement was like sibling squabbling.

I couldn't help but wonder how such different and yet similar people had met up and started this little family. Carlisle seemed the oldest, not only because he played the role of father...there was something ancient about him. Most people wouldn't notice it, but I could see it in the way he looked over them all.

Sometimes I felt the same when I was with my friends at school. I was among them, but it became hard to understand their struggles at times. It all seemed so old.

"You seem like Carlisle," Jasper said, looking at me with the same concentration.

He must be testing my emotions, I resolved myself to avoid such nostalgic thinking.

Carlisle seemed surprised by the sudden comparison.

"What is it," Jasper asked, he leaned in closer, almost as if her were trying to catch the last of some lingering scent. "It's familiar," he trailed off his thoughts, his expression unsatisfied.

Edward looked interested as well, and somehow jealous. But Edward always confused me more than the others. The Cullens had their code to live by, so they let me live without any passing thought. I was just one human among many. But I knew my blood held a special significance for Edward, why was he going through this? Why had he brought me here?

Why had I come?

"Now you're just confused," Jasper provided for me.

"Thanks, I should carry you around like a mood ring," I informed him with a smile.

I ate more of Esme's food, chewing slowly, but I was full before much time had passed and the silence in the room was starting to seem unbearable.

"I should be going home," I said, interrupting the stares.

"I'll drive you," Edward said, rising to his feet so quickly it looked as if there had been no transition between sitting and standing.

"That's okay," I said quickly. "It's not that far, I can walk."

Edward frowned, "You're forgetting," he said with a dour expression, and my near death came hurtling back.

"I'll drive."

It seemed that Edward was mute to my protests. I suppose logically I could see his point, I had almost been killed by one roadside collision. What were the chances of it happening again?

But, I hadn't been inside Edward's shiny Volvo for more than a few minutes before I wondered if maybe walking had been the safer choice. His car sped through the country roads at a speed that had me quoting automobile crash statistics, and it was difficult not to picture what I'd look like if his car wrapped around a tree.

He probably wouldn't even ruin his clothes.

But I gritted my teeth and looked out the window as the world sped by, holding my seatbelt tightly as we whipped around the corners.

Speed did have one advantage, it took no time at all for us to pull into the Winters's driveway. Mr. Winters's truck was noticeably absent, which told me that he and his wife were probably still at the hospital. I mentally made plans to drop by the hospital tomorrow morning if Mrs. Winters didn't come home tonight.

Edward opened my car door and I stood next to him awkwardly.

"Well, thanks," I said hesitantly.

He was peering at me closely.

"You seem fine," he told me, but he sounded as if he didn't believe his words.

"Yeah, thanks for saving my life," I repeated, wondering if he thought I had been thanking him for the ride, or for dinner...I was deep in debt to Edward Cullen and it wasn't a position I wanted to be in.

"I've been waiting for you to go into shock or something, you almost died," he reminded me.

"I said thank you?" I pointed out, wondering if he had gone deaf.

"Normal people don't process that sort of shock well." He was peering at me once again, his expression filled with the faint exasperation that often littered his face when he was talking to me. The intensity of that expression forced my eyes to drop and stare at my hands with a new intensity.

"What are you thinking?" he demanded suddenly, making me glance up in surprise.

"I guess I'm wondering why you care?" I asked, voicing the question that had been bothering me ever since my dark knight had swooped down and saved me from an oncoming car.

He ran a hand through his copper hair, the gesture filled with the fake humanity.

"I feel very… protective of you," he finally said after some thought.

"Why?" I wanted to know. "I can tell that...well..." I trailed off uncomfortably. What is the polite way of saying, 'I know you want to drink me dry'.

"You interest me," he said softly.

"I'm not that interesting," I said. It was half a lie and half the truth.

"You're hard to read," he said tilting his head in that annoying puppy fashion I'd come to expect from him.

"Not really," I crossed my arms as the chill from being outside made me want to shiver. The last light was leaving us.

"You're cold," he said softly. He looked completely content in the chill air.

"Yeah well," I gestured toward the house.

Edward moved toward the door and opened it, even though I was rather certain that it had been locked. He held the door open for me.

"You're not…were you wanting to come in?" I questioned with some doubt, mostly my own.

"Can't I?" He asked, his voice teasing.

I held my chin high, like I could keep a vampire out. "Come in," I offered.

"You didn't have to invite me," he mentioned as we stepped into the open house. "It's a legend about Vampires needing to be invited to cross the threshold."

Not if I had some Sutherlandia, I thought thinking of a particularly useful African herb.

I flicked on the lights and we stood awkwardly in the living room. I'd cleaned up most of the remains from our aborted dinner the previous evening, but some remnants of our hurried departure remained.

"I'm just going to put my bag in my room," I told him, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and moving down the dark hall to my room. Frankly I was tired and I wanted to ask him to leave, but it seemed rude to thank my savior in such a fashion.

"Your room is a little empty," Edward's voice made me jump.

I whirled around, noticing with a falling stomach that he'd actually followed me inside and was examining the small space with a great deal of fascination. Really his curiosity about me was both a little frightening and maybe even flattering. I wasn't certain which emotion was winning out. Still, Edward being in my room left a strange fluttering feeling in my stomach. Panic? Terror?

"What sort of music do you listen to?" he asked, he seemed to be disappointed that his answer wasn't readily available for his visual inspection.

"I don't have a CD player," I said with a shrug. That was the current music device, or was it MP3 players that preoccupied my generation?

"I can see that," he said, examining the empty shelves. "But what sort of music."

"Oh," I sat down on my bed. It had actually been awhile since anyone had asked me that. "I like a lot of music."

He wasn't satisfied, "Favorite song?"

I struggled to think of something that I had heard on the radio, or something that my friends at school had mentioned, but nothing came to mind. "Chopin's Op. 72, No. 1 In E Minor," I said, unable to think of anything to say but the truth.

Edward looked surprised, but his lips quirked into a faint smile. "It's romantic," he mentioned with some amusement.

"You think so," I said, not rising to his bait, "I always thought it was kind of sad."

"It really is your favorite," he said once again sounding oddly surprised. "Favorite movie?" he asked, moving on before I could reply.

"Broken Blossoms," I said absently.

"The silent film?"

"Mmm Hmm, with Lillian Gish." I settled on my bed and looked at my hands.

"I remember the posters...but I never got to see it," he said softly. "My mother loved Lillian Gish."

Why couldn't I have said some normal movie like anyone else? I hadn't meant to draw upon something significant. Broken Blossoms was one of the first moving pictures I'd ever seen and nothing has compared since. Maybe Casablanca, but I was never a Bogart fan.

"I'm tired," I said quickly.

"Oh, of course." Edward took a step back hesitantly. "Then I'll bid you goodnight."

"Good night, Edward,"

I was going to turn away, when he suddenly stepped forward, raising his hand in my direction. His palms were very white and his fingers were lean and long. And for the briefest moment his pointer finger slid down the edge of my face, running from brow to chin. His hands were cold and I held my breath.

"Good night, Bella," his voice seemed strangely deep.

And he was gone, almost as if he'd never been there. And somehow, I felt as if he had left some sort of turmoil behind. The place where his cold hand had gently brushed my face seemed to burn with an odd heat. An energy, a force within my chest seemed to have sent my heart to beating unnaturally fast.

It must be fear, fear was the only thing that made sense.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Three Things

* * *

It was morning and I closed the door to Mrs. Winter's room softly, hoping not to awaken the woman. Her brief stay at the hospital had worn her out and the doctors had advised that she should stay in bed for the next few days. I worried about her vaguely, there was nothing to worry about in reality. She was dying, it wasn't as if that outcome would change.

Selfishly I wondered where that left me, I'm not one to pity the dying after all. It's the living that deal with the problems of the world, not the dead. Once she was gone would I be able to stay here, or would Mr. Winters not prove to be a suitable guardian. More importantly would Mr. Winters still want me when his wife was gone? Maybe for a few months or so, until he found someone else to take care of him.

I was fond of them, but there were no illusions about the arrangement we shared.

"Ready," Mr. Winters asked as he stood looking tired in his jean jacket.

I nodded, although once again I was unsure if I really wanted to be at school. Edward was proving to be a complex mystery and part of me felt that he was the sort that was better to leave alone and unsolved.

We walked out the door, together breathing in the fresh morning air as the pinkish yellow light filtered through the trees. Once again the clouds were only a thin masking high in the sky and it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.

Both Mr. Winters and myself were surprised by the silver Volvo parked in the driveway.

"Good morning Mr. Winters," Edward said hopping from his car. "I was hoping I could give Bella a ride to school."

Mr. Winters, always the eloquent type shrugged his shoulders before going back inside the house.

I stood awkwardly, "You didn't have to do that," I told him.

"It will be safer this way," he stated.

In what universe was his driving safe, I wondered. I glanced back at the house, but I knew Mr. Winters had probably already gone back to bed. He seemed as exhausted by his wife's hospital stay as she was. Not meeting Edward's eyes I moved to the passenger door, a little startled when he was swiftly by my side opening it for me.

I slid inside, and I didn't need Jasper to tell me I was confused.

"What are we doing?" I asked him.

"Going to school," he answered, his car's engine revving to life and we pulled out of the driveway before he'd fastened his seatbelt. My own safety device was firmly fastened and I tried to ignore the speedometer as we flew through town.

"I mean this," I said gesturing between us. "Are we _friends_?" The idea seemed laughable.

Edward turned to look at me, "I can't tell what you're thinking," he commented in an annoyed voice.

"I can't tell what you're thinking. Isn't this risking fate? Aren't you…you know, thirsty?"

Edward's face looked a little grim, "I'd have thought so, but then you seem to chance fate when you're walking home from school. Not to mention the death wish you seem to have."

"I don't have a death wish," I argued. "I'm quite fine with being alive at the moment."

"Yesterday you said that it didn't matter if you died," Edward pointed out with a dark sort of glower in his expression.

"Yeah, 'not mattering' and 'wanting to' are very distinct divisions," I muttered.

"You're confusing," he stated.

I couldn't help but feel annoyed myself, why did he keep spending time with me if half the time we proved to be nothing more to each other than an irritation.

"Is this some sort of way of making certain I won't tell your secret, you're going to follow me around?"

Edward frowned the barest trace of a growl seemed attached to it.

"I thought we decided to trust you."

"So did I, well excepting Jasper."

He glanced at me sideways, I frantically tried to guess what the normal reaction he was looking for would be. Anger? Fear? I think I came off looking confused which must have resulted in his own curious expression. Maybe he stuck with me because he saw me as a puzzle.

"So we're friends," I said, it seemed too bizarre a concept to reconcile with.

"I suppose." He seemed as uncomfortable with the term as I did. Our eyes met for a moment, and it was strange but I felt that even with this uncomfortable beginning, he was one of the few people in Forks who came close to understanding me. The kids at school seemed to only get the outside shell. Which had been all I'd wanted, all I thought I deserved.

"What are you thinking right now," Edward asked.

I looked away, it seemed too stupid to say, why did he even want to know?

"I was thinking that with how fast you drive we won't be late for school."

Edward must have noticed the lie, but he didn't seem to demand an explanation.

"Alice wondered if you'd sit with us at lunch today," he asked as we pulled into the parking lot.

"Why?" I asked, wondering if the psychic had foreseen something terrible if I sat with the other humans.

"She says you're going to be good friends. And I guess seeing the future sometimes makes it hard for her to distinguish between then and now. I remember when she and Jasper came to us, it was a little startling to have someone you'd just met acting like she's been your sister for years."

"So you're saying there is no escaping it."

Edward seemed faintly amused by my summation.

We got out of the car, I was quick enough this time that I managed my own door. Or maybe Edward had to contain himself better considering we were back amongst the humans.

"You may want to be careful," Edward said softly, so that only I could hear. "People seem to be noticing."

"Noticing?" I asked, looking around curiously.

Indeed, quite a few heads were turned in our directions as the pair of us moved through the parking lot and towards the school. Some students stopped in their tracks and opened their mouths in surprise.

"What exactly..." I trailed off wondering what teenage etiquette I'd missed now.

"They think we're dating," Edward provided, he seemed greatly amused by all this.

I pressed my lips together as I forced a smile from my own face. I suppose it would be quite the ruckus if one day trouble-maker Bella showed up at school with Forks High's most unattainable bachelor. Edward seemed to enjoy the attention, particularly when we walked past Jessica, Mike and others who had become my friends.

"I don't think Mike likes me anymore," he whispered and my eyes flashed to see Mike's angry face amongst the shock. "And Jessica is going to demand an explanation," he informed me.

"How do you know all this?" I asked him feeling slightly embarrassed that a vampire could read humans better than I could.

"Didn't I mention it," He said seriously, "I can read minds."

Shock didn't even begin to describe my feelings.

"See you at lunch," he whispered, running his hand lightly through my hair before vanishing into the crowd.

I blinked, read minds? But he hadn't touched Jessica or Mike? Mind talents were rare, I'd only met one other vampire who had the ability. His had relied off touch to function; Edward's seemed to work differently. Then, did he know about my past? Could he see the reason that I was different from the other students? I suddenly felt sick.

He couldn't know. It was impossible, otherwise he would have been well aware that I wasn't fooled by the charade he and the Cullens played. How many times had I cursed the stupid vampire in my mind. I could tell that he had been honestly shocked by my foreknowledge the other day. I glanced briefly at the marks on my wrist, the Delevi Ring had some effect on vampires, but not fully against their gifts.

"Hello Banafrit."

That greeting washed all thoughts of Edward Cullen from my mind. I stiffened and turned slowly to see the tired face of a man who looked to be somewhere in his early twenties. But his eyes looked older. His voice was like well worn stone, so familiar and engraved into my mind. He hadn't changed since Kelso, except maybe he'd grown taller and broader. His skin was a rich chocolate color and his black hair was cropped short. His clothes were old and somewhat worn, his sleeves were short despite the chill in the air and it looked as if he'd added to his tattoos since last I'd seen him. Body modification had always been his particular trait, no matter when and where we were.

"Nomti," I said calmly. His name means strength and I always thought it had been well chosen. He was always strong, like an oak tree. But unbendable too.

He bowed his head in a short nod, his dark eyes looking me over carefully. "You look well."

"As do you do," I answered.

He didn't say anything, but his old eyes stared out at me with some condemnation. I clenched my teeth and stood rigidly.

"Can we speak?" he asked.

I glanced back at Forks High School. It was with some unhappiness that I realized I'd be ditching class again.

"Not here," I ordered. Edward Cullen's confession was still fresh in my mind and I didn't want Nomti anywhere near my new mind-reading friend. "The woods are nice."

The Northern portion of Forks High was surrounded by thick woods, old pines grew tall and moss covered. The ground was bare, lacking much undergrowth as the large trees blocked much of the light from reaching ground level. Nomti followed me at a casual pace as we cut past the school buildings and hide ourselves away in the tress. I didn't know how far away from Edward this would have to be, but I walked until the school was completely out of sight and the air smelled fresher. Nomti followed silently, not seeming to expect an explanation for our journey.

I stopped at a large stump, settling myself onto it and turning to glance at my silent follower.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I've spoken to Marius," he said.

"So," I said. "Marius is six, he's not going to begin the crusade when most of his warriors are in grade school."

Nomti shrugged, "He thinks we should take the next step, join up with them."

"Out of the question," I stated, I shook my head and stared into Nomti's dark eyes. I knew that Marius would request such a thing, but he didn't control my life to the same degree as he did the others.

"He thinks it's the best way for all of us to meet back up," Nomti completed the message as if I hadn't said anything.

"I refuse," I stated.

"It's your right," he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. He looked off into the trees, "You playing normal again?"

They thought it was a game, Marius always considered it my little personal madness, and who didn't have some form of it after all these years, but mine was considered an inconvenient one.

"I've got a jump on him and I'm taking it," I stated. I swung my feet to the ground and stood up, my gaze cutting through the trees a moment then turned back to the silent man before me.

I approached Nomti slowly, letting my hand rest gently on his arm. A tattoo of serpent was curled around his biceps, it was as permanent a mark as any of us had. "You understand right," I pressed my fingers into his flesh, allowing this small touch to convey what I meant.

He pulled away looking embarrassed. I considered us a family of sorts, but we weren't exactly the hugging type. Long ago we'd established roles to keep our focus and keep our sanity. Nomti was Marius's man, and I was Marius's— I had my role in the oldest love story after all.

"There are vampires here," he said slowly.

I lowered my head. Perhaps he'd seen me with Edward, maybe he'd only sensed their presence.

"I know," I said simply.

Nomti frowned, he didn't say a word of argument, but he frowned and made his opinion known.

"You might as well say it," I gave permission.

"Why do you want to betray him?" he asked. "Why are you fighting the _way_."

"The _way_, the _path_, the_ mission_. How long have we walked it? How long _must_ we walk it? Marius doomed us all to this foolish crusade. How is wanting a chance at life a betrayal? When he comes for me I shall follow, as I have done, but he does not— "

"You would consort with our enemy," his anger tasted bitter and his eyes narrowed as he struggled to hide the fury that threatened to overflow.

So, he had seen Edward.

His hands were balled into fists, his shoulders hunched. His body language threatened violence, but Nomti would never hurt me. He couldn't, he believed Marius's fable. Sometimes I wondered how much the others remembered, really remembered, or if our story was only legend to them now.

"The vampires here are different, they do not drink human blood."

"Lies," Nomti said, his face turning into disgust, as if the word had tasted foul to him. "They kill and maim, they slaughtered our brothers." He took a hard look at me his lips curling into a sneer, "You really have gone mad."

"Maybe," I allowed. "Aren't we all by now?"

His anger fizzled. "They'll kill you," he said with a certainty that made me flinch. "And then Marius will have what he wants."

I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, "Maybe, it's a good guess. Maybe it'll be okay."

"You know better than all of us what they do. They don't have hearts, souls." Nomti shook his head and stepped away from me. "And what if _The Origin_ finds you?"

I rolled my eyes at Nomti's words. _The Origin_. They really had made it into some story, it wasn't life anymore. They'd become characters in some epic tale. They were the insane ones. But it wouldn't do any good to argue with them. I'd known that for a long time.

"Maybe he will," I relented, refusing to show any fear. "But I'll do as I please until I can't."

There was nothing more to say, we both tasted the finality of our choices.

"I'm going back to class," I said.

Nomti laughed, a deep dark chuckle of amusement and I could hear it ringing through the trees as I cut back through the woods to the school grounds. There was no point saying goodbye. Nomti and I would see each other again, there was a bond thicker than blood between us. There would never be any goodbyes among the twelve.

The bell was ringing, signaling the end of first period when I entered building four. I hadn't realized my little hike had taken so much time. And word must have traveled through school quickly that after arriving with Edward Cullen I'd seemingly disappeared. And whatever Edward's blind spot was concerning my mind, it seemed that the others at our school weren't quite as fortunate as he'd apparently learned very quickly of my absence.

He was leaving his class a little quicker than normal and seemed to be focused on other things until he stopped dead and stared at me with some sort of relief and anger.

He crossed the hallways and made a gesture as if he wanted to grab my arm but stopped himself suddenly.

"Where were you," he demanded, his tone was low but he sounded angry.

"I took a walk," I said quietly.

"A walk? Where?"

I found myself more than annoyed by his tone, "Just a walk into the woods. Your little statement took me a bit to absorb," I lied.

He opened his mouth, then seemed to change his mind. "You shouldn't go into the woods alone," he said softly. He raised his hand again and this time he ran his palm down my arm. Very gently almost as if he was afraid of hurting me.

"Does it bother you," he asked, moving closer so that I could smell that rich intoxicating scent that they released.

It took a moment for my brain to process his question, "No, I suppose not."

"Jasper and Alice didn't seem to— "

"Yeah, well Jasper and Alice weren't privy to my innermost thoughts," I argued.

"I can't...I can read every mind in this hallway," he paused and looked me in the eye, "except yours."

"Mine," We were caught in a stare again, and I broke away. "Why, is there something wrong with me?"

He chuckled and the noise turned a few heads. Edward Cullen laughing? It was practically unheard of. I noticed how much attention we were drawing again.

"I should get to class," I said pulling my backpack closer to my body.

"Yeah, don't forget lunch. I think Alice is really looking forward to it."

I nodded, doubly relieved that he couldn't read my mind now. He looked so innocent somehow. And a part of me wondered if this was all part of his plan, but I shook my head at the old paranoia. Nomti had reestablished what I knew to be true, I couldn't move on to a new life if I wasn't prepared to accept the evidence of change when I saw it. Because, as impossible as I knew it to be, Edward Cullen and his family...they were the closest things to real friends I might have here in Forks.

"Lunch sounds great," I said.

"What do you like to eat?" Edward asked almost as soon as I sat down, it had caused a small bit of disruption when I had nodded to Jessica before crossing to join the Cullens at the table which everyone considered 'theirs'.

It seemed that he hadn't given up the game of twenty questions he'd started the previous night.

"I like fruit," I said honestly.

"What is your favorite fruit," he wanted to know.

"Um, plums I suppose," I said thoughtfully.

The other Cullens around the table looked amused at Edward's thoughtful expression. He looked as if we were discussing life philosophy, not favorite foods. I took a bite of the salad I'd chosen for today's lunch and the others seemed to think that this was a good time to feign eating themselves.

"Does that get tiresome?" I asked them.

They exchanged a glance, "I suppose we've gotten used to it," Edward answered for the family.

"I've always wondered, doesn't blood get boring?" I actually wanted to know. No vampire had ever seemed to tire of it, but from my human standpoint it had always seemed rather dull.

Edward looked like he wanted to choke, he shared a glance with the others. Emmett grinned, his teeth a little too wide and Rosalie continued pretending that I didn't exist.

Alice laughed, "There are many different flavors," she answered lightly, "Every life is unique."

Edward looked embarrassed by this line of questioning.

"What is your favorite subject," he wanted to know, seeming to try and redirect the conversation.

"History, I suppose," it was by far my easiest class.

Jasper frowned slightly. For being so knowledgeable about emotions Jasper tended to keep his hidden. I wondered if they were covering the Civil War in his class. I'd already picked up on the slight Southern accent, based on his age, it wouldn't be impossible for that to have been something he could remember. I wondered if he found sitting in history class as difficult as I did.

Maybe the sense of companionship sparked an odd note because Jasper looked up, his amber eyes focusing on me before he quickly looked away. I slid my gaze to Edward to see the reason behind this. It seemed my dark protector wasn't quite ready to forget Jasper's threats on my life, whatever Jasper had been thinking had resulted in a sharp glare.

"So are the minds of the school wondering what I'm doing sitting here?" I asked him, drawing his fierce expression from his brother.

"No, not really," Edward evaded.

It took only a subtle glance around the cafeteria to see that was a lie.

"Great," I complained, "Quite the reputation I'm going to have."

"Well, if you didn't ditch class so often," Rosalie commented a little archly.

"Yeah," I said rubbing my forehead. But I didn't really care, it must have been apparent to everyone there.

"The first day," Edward said his voice filled with dawning understanding, "You left after you saw us, didn't you."

I chewed my salad thoughtfully, "I suppose you could say that," I admitted. "I had to get out of here."

"Why did you come back?" Edward wanted to know. The other Cullens exchanged glances as well, although whether they were wondering about me or Edward was anyone's guess.

"Hmm, well..." I trailed of weakly. My reasons for returning weren't actually kind. And I couldn't tell Edward that after seeing him I'd gone home and burned an archaic symbol into my arm. Somehow I didn't think that would go over well. Would put a damper on our friendship.

"I guess I just didn't have anywhere else to go," I decided. "I'd worked out a whole plan to walk to the highway and hitch a ride out of town...but there wasn't anywhere to go." I shrugged, I wondered if the Cullens could understand.

Edward was staring at me again. I wondered if not being able to read my mind had made me a fascination for him. People must seem so deadly dull if you know their innermost thoughts just by listening. Life without mystery, I don't envy him that.

The bell rang suddenly and I looked at my half finished salad unhappily. They might not need to eat, but I wasn't quite so lucky. I still felt hungry. Edward seemed to reach the same conclusion.

"Humans actually need to eat lunch during lunch," Alice reminded us all.

"Yeah, sorry about that," I stated.

Alice laughed, Emmett chuckled and even Jasper looked faintly amused. I supposed it had been some time since the Cullens had troubled themselves with human needs.

"Let's get to class," Edward said, he communicated something in a glance to Alice and the small girl laughed all the harder.

Biology seemed less the trial it had been now that so many of our secrets were out in the open. There was an odd camaraderie establishing itself, one that I couldn't understand. I wished I knew the reason behind this friendship, but it was almost at a deeper level than mere personal similarities. It had been so long since I had allowed myself a friend...over analyzing it would kill this sudden good will so I decided to let myself go. Why did it matter the reason for this strange electricity between me and Edward Cullen.

I wasn't, however, looking forward to gym.

"Okay, you have to dish," Jessica said, pulling me aside in the locker room. More than a few other girls seemed similarly interested in our conversation.

"About what," I asked, hoping to stall for time.

"Geh! You and Edward Cullen obviously, are you two, like, dating now?" She flung open her gym locker and gave me a curious expression.

"Eh, no, we're not dating," I answered the first part easily enough.

"Why ever not?" Jessica demanded, "You're like the first girl he even seemed to notice was alive. And he's drop dead!"

Dead being the case in point, I thought sarcastically. "No, it's not like that...he's just nicer than I thought is all."

"Nice? Edward Cullen has never been nice." Jessica shared a look with another girl one locker over.

"So do _you_ like him?" Angela, one of the nicer people I knew, drifted over her expression sort of soft and romantic.

I bit back the immediate reaction to say no. Because…"I don't know," I allowed, admitting the honest confusion I felt concerning Edward.

"Well, does he make your heart beat fast?" Angela asked.

Check, but that had to be panic and fear, I thought.

"And you must find him cute, he's adorable!" Jessica added her thoughts.

There was something about that odd tilted head, innocent gesture that was endearing.

"And does he make you feel special, like the little time with him is better than your whole day."

Well, saving a girl's life can have the effect of making you feel special. And I appreciated the not killing me thing too. Perhaps more than Edward could understand. And there was something in the way he protected me, the way he watched me. Marius took my allegiance without thought, always had, he had never considered my feelings on anything. No one had.

"Sssh, Angela I'd think you were in love with someone, you know with mucho sappiness," Jessica commented turning to Angela who immediately blushed.

"Oh my god, you _are_!" Jessica exclaimed, "Who? It isn't Mike is it?"

Angela muttered something and quickly walked back to her locker. Jessica chased after her demanding to know what she had said. It left me alone to muddle over Angela and Jessica's advice and try to figure out exactly what this could all mean. Because I did feel all those things for Edward. And that odd spark that ran between us, like a live wire. And I could remember every time he'd ever touched me.

But it couldn't be love. Love wasn't real. I didn't even want it to be love, because love was just about as destructive an emotion as I'd ever known. I didn't want to love Edward Cullen, I didn't want him to love me.

Gym was even more a disaster than usual, combining my general lack of coordination with a mind on other matters, not to mention Mike's general unhappiness, we seemed destined to be the losing team for doubles volleyball before the game had even started. I apologized constantly to Mike, and he was too much of a good guy to be mad at me. Still, I think both of us were glad when class was over. I got changed in a hurry, hoping to avoid anymore conversations with Angela and Jessica.

I burst out of the Gymnasium, escaping before anyone else due to my hurry and almost ran into Edward who was standing with his arms folded, waiting for me just outside the door.

"Hello," he said, putting out his palms to steady me.

"Hi, so, how was your class?" It was a pointless question, he didn't need class anymore than I did. I suddenly felt very embarrassed around him considering my conversation before gym. I took concentrated effort to look at him and I somehow felt that I was blushing.

"What are you doing after school," Edward asked.

"More twenty questions?" I asked him.

"Do you mind," he wanted to know, his voice filled with that strange concern.

"No," I paused, "But I have to get home and see how Mrs. Winters is, make dinner, you know the usual."

Edward nodded, "Could I show you something first, it won't take long."

"Okay," I said hesitantly.

It didn't take long until we were back in the parking lot, which, as usual, was perhaps one of the most crowded and dangerous places in Forks. Young drivers did their best to escape after a day at school. Of course the danger seemed significantly less considering Edward walked closely by my side. It wasn't until I buckled into his Volvo that I began to wonder how the other members of his family were planning on getting home.

"What about the others?" I asked.

Edward gestured to the left where a crowd of young men had gathered. "Rosalie drove as well, ostentatious isn't it."

I could barely see the red car among the throng of admirers but just nodded. "What is it with vampires and flashy cars?" I muttered.

Edward laughed, sliding into the drivers seat and leaning closer to me, "I guess we just like to go fast," he whispered.

I had to bite back a chill, the sweet scent of his breath enveloped me and my mind turned fuzzy for a moment. I hastily rolled down the window to try and gain some focus.

Edward's driving was as skillful as it was fast, and it seemed to take us only minutes to leave the crowded lot and then cruise unhampered through the town, the speed accelerating as we got out onto the open roads. I closed my eyes and bit my lip.

"You okay?" Edward asked.

"Yeah," I struggled to say.

I flickered my eyes toward Edward to try and see his expression.

He was watching me closely, in that same analytical way that I'd gotten used to. Then he noticeably slowed to a nice 80 mph and I released a sigh.

"Thanks," I said, "You could probably walk away from a car accident, it's a little harder for me."

"I hate going slow," was all he said, but he kept his speed low.

The car turned off onto a dirt road and finally stopped at what seemed the base of a mountain. I got out of the car and looked around curiously. A part of my old reactions told me that it was a very bad idea to wander off alone in the woods with a hungry vampire. But Edward had been given many opportunities to hurt me, and the old fear was easy to dismiss.

Edward held out his hand to me "It will be faster," he said.

I took his cold hand and just like the other evening he swung me onto his back and then just as suddenly we were dashing through the tress. His speed in the woods was incredible and I found myself becoming lost in the blurry green world I'd found myself in. It's like flying, I thought as the wind whipped through my hair sending the brown strands into a mess.

A sudden chill hit me when I remembered running through a forest like this, my feet bleeding, my legs and arms sliced by the brush whipping me. And his easy footsteps close behind, coming after me.

I pressed myself against Edward's back, hiding from the memory.

We came to a halt just as suddenly and I found myself almost plastered to Edward's back, my arms had wrapped around his neck. He slowly untwined me from him and it was odd but his cold hand felt good in my own. He seemed as hesitant as I was to let go and ran his fingers over my hand with the softness of a butterfly's wing.

I finally looked around and my lips opened, it was beautiful. Somewhere, on this mountain surrounded by a sea of trees, a perfect circular meadow grew. The early spring blossoms, crocuses and some white flowers I couldn't remember the name to, were blooming and it seemed like a kind of heaven.

"It's beautiful," I said. It was a poor attempt at describing such a place. Vampires were as doomed to this world as I was, I wondered if it was heaven to Edward as well.

"I found it the first year we moved here…for the first time." he explained. Weak streaks of sunlight broke through easier here, higher up in the mountains, and his face took on a haloed look as the brief sparkles of his skin caught the pieces of light. He seemed aware of it in an embarrassed way and ducked his head.

I slowly approached him until I was standing right next to him. I'd seen this before, and always been slightly mystified by it. Slowly I raised my hand, Edward was taller than me by half a foot, but my finger gently rested on the curve of his cheek, just as he had done to me. Edward stood very still, and I ran my hand down his skin as the light played havoc with his features, glowing light bouncing on my skin. It was so smooth. The light made his features looked pebbled, like a diamond shield. But the texture was deceptive, hard as marble and cold, but smooth and almost without texture.

He was looking at me directly now, his eyes examining my expression. What was he looking for I wondered? Horror? Disgust? Had he wondered how long it would take for me to realize what a monster he was. As if I didn't know. As if I hadn't seen hands as cold and pale as his breaking flesh and bone.

Very slowly, he mirrored my actions and raised a hand to caress the side of my face.

I had to remind myself to breathe, as my heart hammered in my chest.

We stayed like that for a long time, eventually settling into the thick grass, our wide eyes exploring the other, almost like we were scared children.

"Why aren't you afraid of me," he asked, his voice disrupting the stillness.

"I don't know," I answered. It was a mystery to me as well.

"You've seen vampires kill; you know what we're capable of."

I looked away, I knew more than he could imagine. "You're different," I said, not knowing why but believing it to be true.

"How do you know so much about us," he asked. I could tell it had been something that had been bothering him. And Edward wasn't stupid. One attack, when I was just a child years ago, wouldn't have provided me with the information I had.

"I...I've never told anyone this, I'm not certain how to explain it," I said softly. I knew that I should lie, but somehow lying to Edward, here in this place, it seemed cruel, and impossible as well.

He reached a hand out a slid it through my hair, letting his fingers tangle in the brown curls at the end.

"I was born in 1901," he said softly. "In Chicago, when I got old enough all I wanted to do was fight in the World War, maybe I would have, if I hadn't gotten sick before I turned 18."

It was hard to imagine Edward human.

"Carlisle was a doctor there, he nursed my mother and she made him promise he'd do all he could to save me."

I nodded, smiling gently, "He saved you then," I said softly.

Edward nodded, "I've done bad things," He said looking me in the eye, "I've killed people Bella. I haven't always been as I am now."

Somehow I knew that.

"I broke away from Carlisle, convinced I knew better. With my ability I could only target those who deserved death. It was a weak excuse for bloodlust."

I traced the lines in his palm as he spoke.

"One night I was looking for my prey, the slums of New York were filled with murderers and rapists, I never ran low. There was a man who was attacking a young girl, I stopped him and killed him."

He expected revulsion, but I had none for him. "I turned to the girl to see if she was alright...and I saw what I had become in her frightened eyes: A Monster."

"So you went back to Carlisle." It was a statement and not a question.

He'd bared his sins before me, filled with self-loathing. I met those amber eyes that I'd grown strangely fond of and licked my lips nervously.

"My family and I we're different." Those words sounded familiar, until I remembered they had been his.

I felt a chill with this beginning. I had never told a living soul before, none of us had. How should I explain it? Tell him the story, the legend, it seemed too much for anyone to understand.

"I think I can keep up," Edward said.

I looked at him startled, could he read my mind after all?

"When you're worried you get a little wrinkle between your eyes, right there." He traced the spot with his thumb.

"We're different," I repeated. "There are twelve of us, and we don't— We don't die." I'd said it, and it became easier somehow.

Edward looked confused, whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been that.

"I mean, we _die_," I corrected, "I'm human, but our souls, our spirits, they don't die, we're just born again into another body, remembering everything from the past. So I'm seventeen, but it's as if I'm also older. An old soul." I looked at him, waiting wondering what he would say.

Would he think me insane? Being a vampire that was a little judgmental, but a part of me still feared his disbelief more than anything.

"How is this possible?"

His trust left me staggered and I took a breath.

"My- Marius, our leader of sorts, he had a gift too. From a talented family I suppose," I said sarcastically.

I closed my eyes and said the story I needed to tell, written plainly.

"On his wedding day, a vampire came as an unwelcome guest. He destroyed everything." Perhaps the grisly scene of that day was reflected in my eyes because Edward remained silent.

"Marius swore an oath as he lay dying, that he and his would never rest until they had destroyed the vampire and all like him." The silence was heavy for a moment as I repeated Marius's oath, the words still brought a shiver to me, they contained a power.

"And so here I am, born again, never resting. Marius, doomed us, there is no ending the curse he made."

"They hunt vampires," he asked.

I wondered how this would go over, "Something like that, it's Marius's mission."

"I've never heard of..." Edward trailed off.

"You don't have to worry," I said, laying back and looking at the sky. "He's not very good at it. Our lives are more easily dispatched than yours. Although he's probably better than any human in the world."

"The Volturi allow this," Edward said aloud, although I don't think he was speaking to me, his mind seemed to be processing it.

That was even more complicated, "They like to pretend that Marius doesn't exist. Aro said that only the weakest vampires, those not worthy of existing, would be killed by a human so..."

"You know the Volturi?" He said sounding shocked.

"I've been around a long time," I said forcing a smile, "I've known a lot of people."

"So, you're a vampire hunter?" he said, his tone surprised.

"Not me," I said with a slight chuckle, "Can you imagine that? I lack the coordination."

Edward looked at me for a long time, and I wondered what he was thinking. Was he realizing how impossible our friendship was? Maybe he was starting to see that between the pair of us, I was more of the freak than he.

But Edward was smiling, his expression so honest and almost relieved.

"What are you thinking?" I asked, quoting the line he usually asked me.

"I'm thinking I don't feel so bad about..." he trailed off seeming uncomfortable to voice his words aloud. But I knew his hunger regarding me rested on his mind.

"As humans go, there are more fragile ones than you." He laughed and ran his hand through my hair again. He seemed to love this motion and his palms slid slowly through my hair as if he could feel every strand.

"It's okay," I said, "I've been killed by vampires before."

The confession was meant lightheartedly, but Edward's good mood seemed to die.

"I'll never hurt you that way," he promised suddenly. His amber eyes locking onto mine, but then a brief shadow of doubt slid across his face and I knew he was wondering if he'd be able to keep that promise.

"I know you won't," I said, although like him I wondered if it was a promise he could keep. Still somehow the action of saying it made it seem more real.

He paused, looking hesitant, "I better get you home, I promised I wouldn't have you out late."

I glanced at the watch he wore and sat up, "I've got to make dinner for Mr. Winters," I said.

It didn't take us long to get to the Winter's home. Considering Edward's speed, both physical and mechanical, we were pulling into the driveway before five o'clock. We stood hesitantly, I should go in, he should go home, but it seemed odd to have him be somewhere else. It felt like he should be by my side, which was an oddly possessive feeling. Perhaps retelling an ounce of my hideous history had been more of a relief than I had thought.

"Would you like to come in?" I asked.

He nodded and quickly moved to open the door for me.

Inside the house was quiet and dark, I guessed that Mr. Winters had reclaimed his outpost in the shed. First I checked on Mrs. Winters, the concern on my face must have lead Edward to follow me.

I listened for a moment to sound of her breathing. She was on morphine almost constantly now, and while it seemed to stop the pain and helped her breathing, it also left her tired much of the time. The glass of water that I had filled this morning was still half full by her bedside. Still, I poured a little more from the pitcher and listened to her quiet breathing for another minute before slowly exiting and closing the door.

"Lung cancer?" Edward asked with a hushed voice.

I nodded, going down the hallway to my room. I opened the door and stopped short, I'd only meant to set my backpack in the room but certain changes had sparked my notice.

"What?" I said looking blankly at my desk.

Settled very neatly, almost as if it had always been there, was CD player with speakers, a collection of discs filling up the rest of the space.

"I told her not to do this," Edward said, he looked at the collection with only feigned annoyance. In fact he seemed quite pleased.

"What, did you do this?" I asked.

"Alice," Edward said. "I might have mentioned that you didn't have a lot. I'd check the closet too."

I frowned and moved to the closet, swinging it open, I had to bite back the unwelcome surprise. Considering my wardrobe precious few things had merited being hung up. The jeans and shirts I'd brought with me were mostly all snuggled into the small dresser. Now, however, my closet seemed packed with a collection of new clothes, all hung up and looking far too nice.

I turned back to Edward who seemed to be hiding a smile.

"I can't take this," I told him seriously.

"You can try to talk Alice out of it, but she can be pretty impossible."

"I can't accept these," I repeated, I inspected the clothes and felt even less pleased when I noted the brands and knew how much money must have been spent on these.

"What's the matter," Edward asked noting my frown.

"I can't pay her back for these, I don't have money too..." I trailed off weakly.

Edward shrugged my words aside, "You don't have to, she wanted to do this. She wasn't expecting anything in exchange."

My frown stayed.

"This really bothers you doesn't it," Edward said, taking my expression seriously.

"Yes," I said, trying to think of a way to explain it to him. "I like being useful," I finally said, "But I can't help her back or anything."

"Trust me," Edward said, taking my hand and running his thumb across my palm. "Alice enjoyed doing this. The hours can get a little boring for us, you'd really make her happy by accepting. And you can wear one of the outfits she bought for you, that would make her day."

I still didn't feel right about it, but I dropped my bag and headed for the kitchen.

Edward settled himself at the kitchen table while I fiddled through the cupboards trying to decide what to make for Mr. Winters and myself. It didn't seem as Mrs. Winters would be joining us tonight and I felt the same slight concern when I thought of her.

"What are you thinking?" Edward asked. It seemed to be his favorite question, and I guessed that he asked it whenever my expression flickered to something that he couldn't read.

"Mrs. Winters," I said softly, I looked around for a moment to make certain Mr. Winters wasn't within earshot, "I don't think she's going to be around much longer."

Edward nodded, "Carlisle said she's stable for now."

But both of us knew that her condition wasn't good.

"Does that make you sad?" he asked.

"In a way," I said, "But not really. That sounds terrible doesn't it?"

Edward rested his head on his hands in a human gesture. "Not really, you haven't known her for long."

"That isn't why I'm not sad," I said, "They've been good to me. It's just...natural. I've seen a lot of people die. The time comes, the body gets weak, but that's the way it is supposed to go. Get to see whatever is next."

"You believe that," Edward asked.

"I do." I paused for a moment and drew a breath, before shaking my head, "I've lived in so many bodies, I know that there is more to us humans than the shells we inhabit. That part doesn't die, it has to go somewhere. I don't know about heaven or hell, but-something is after this."

I turned back to my cooking, back to reality, I'd chosen to make something lean tonight, chicken and rice, with a salad.

"I guess I'll never get to see what that is though," I said with a slight shrug.

And then Edward was behind me, the chill from him soaked into my back. His arms encircled me, but he kept a small distance between us. Once again, I sensed his fear of hurting me. I leaned back ever so slightly, and felt oddly comforted by the gesture. He felt so solid, as if the roof could fall down around us and he'd still be standing here.

"What are we doing?" It was the same question I had asked this morning. And this morning I'd reached the startling conclusion that we were friends. Somehow that definition seemed lacking.

"Why did it take me so long to find you," Edward said, he took a breath and seemed to breathe me into him. It was strange this sort of wanting, needing.

I felt his arms tighten around me slowly.

This wasn't possible. "I don't believe in- this doesn't happen," I said, trying to gain some composure.

I turned in his arms so that I could see his face clearly. I don't believe in love I reminded myself. Hadn't I lived my incredibly long life and never found it? How could it be here, in the form of a vampire, how could my heart beat erratically and my nerves thrill at his touch. This was what they had been talking about, this was why they endured the pain and the cost because of this moment, where I knew we were feeling the same thing.

"I've waited so long," he repeated, moving his hand to stroke my cheek once again.

I struggled to breathe, "I've waited longer."

* * *

About three things I was certain.

Firstly, I was in love with Edward Cullen, irrationally and unavoidably.

I also knew, that a love like this was going to bring tragedy down upon my head with all its painful swiftness.

But—and of this I was positive— I couldn't care less.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Perfecting

* * *

It had been a strange day, it seemed odd to say good-bye to Edward but with dinner nearing completion and with Mr. Winter's reappearance, he couldn't stay. I knew he also had to get back to his family. I wondered if he was planning to share with them the true nature of my history. I wondered if any of them would care.

"Cullen boy," Mr. Winters muttered.

"Yeah," I agreed.

He bit into his chicken with a frown but switched on the TV, and that completed our dinner conversation. The news was on and we both watched the information flash by with little attention paid to it. It seemed quieter somehow with Mrs. Winters absent. Which didn't make any sense considering she didn't provide any additional conversation.

I finished my meal and the TV changed to ESPN and some news about college basketball flashed onto the screen.

I took our plates to the kitchen and came back out with some warm broth in a dish. It was the only thing I could think of that Mrs. Winters might be able to eat. Maybe I should have asked Dr. Cullen some questions, he might have a few tips. I'd nursed my fair share of sick and injured, but my knowledge was hardly what one would consider recent.

Her room was pitch dark, except for the green glow of the clock. I switched on the beside lamp and pulled the chair positioned there closer to her bedside. Her eyes blinked tiredly in the glare from the light, and for a moment she seemed to look at me without any recognition.

"I've got some warm broth," I told her softly.

She frowned at the notion.

I put a small amount of a spoon and moved it toward her tired face. She frowned even more at the idea of being fed, but it was plain that her arms weren't steady enough to manage it.

The quiet felt a bit suffocating, maybe it had something to do with Edward. I'd been talking all day it seemed, and a part me had enjoyed the change. And I really wanted someone to tell about all this. A strange impulse, I suppose, who could I tell? Who would believe this muddled mess?

"I met a boy at school," I said suddenly. I blinked, amazed in an odd way at what I had said.

Mrs. Winters eyes met mine and she seemed interested, or maybe I only wanted her to be.

"His name is Edward," I said, "And he's..." I failed utterly when it came to describing him. He was handsome, strong, fast...all that was true but every vampire would share those descriptions. I didn't want to describe him the same way you could anyone else. "He asks me questions all the time, like he's dying to try and figure me out."

Mrs. Winters let loose a rusty chuckle.

I smiled too, "And he puts on this sour expression whenever anyone even looks at me wrong."

I mimicked Edward's fierce gaze as best I could, but I left out the growling and the fact that it was his brother's murderous intentions that sparked it.

Mrs. Winters wheezed and her hand twitched gesturing to the living room where the TV was still busily reporting the latest Basketball statistics.

"Mr. Winters did to?" I questioned.

She nodded weakly, her eyes going hazy in memory. Whatever she was recalling seemed to make her smile, and her lips mouthed words I couldn't quite understand. Something about a fight, Mr. Winters, a black eye.

I told her more facts about Edward as I spooned the broth, and she answered back with quiet gestures to her husband. But she grew tired before the bowl was half empty, her eyes lost to memory, and I wrapped the quilt around her body as she blinked tiredly. Still she patted my hand in a content gesture, and her amused smile made me wonder what she thought of me and my prattle about Edward Cullen.

When I came out Mr. Winters was dozing in front of the TV. I cleared his plate and switched off the set before going to the kitchen. The dishes were easy and I polished them off while I hummed a soft tune I must have heard somewhere. Which brought to mind the collection of CDs that waited in my bedroom.

It was hard to be annoyed with someone who only had the best intentions... but I was. I've never been good at accepting favors, and I wasn't certain that Alice's generosity didn't contain the bitter taste of charity. Still, when I entered my room that evening it was difficult not to approach the discs and wonder what sort of music was hidden away.

I looked closely at the cases. She had provided a variety of styles, some modern, some less so. I skipped the more popular singers and bands of my supposed generation. Nothing against the music of this age, some of the pieces are poignant in their fury, but I've always been a fan of the classical end of the spectrum: The soft lullaby of a piano, the yearning of a string quartet, the power and complexity of symphonic sound.

My eyes landed on one case in particular that was lying innocently enough on top of one of the speakers. Chopin's Piano Solos. I examined the cover, and found the song listings. My favorite song, the one I had told Edward, was listed as the first track.

Begrudgingly I turned on the CD player and set the volume to a level that wouldn't bother the others of the house. The first low notes began, moving through the room like an undercurrent, and then the sharper cords emerged breaking the stillness as a painful sort of yearning grew in my chest. The feeling felt like it occupied a portion of my lungs, as if I couldn't fully take a breath.

And then Edward was there.

I didn't know how he'd come, or how long he'd been there. It just seemed like I'd turned around and he was there. I wasn't surprised, I wasn't even shocked, although I know I should have been. But it seemed obvious in some way that he would be there.

We stood close, and I wondered how he was baring it. I wanted to look at his eyes and gauge the hunger that he must be feeling, were they black as night? But a part of me didn't want to look, I didn't want him to see me doubting his self-control, or maybe I simply didn't want to know myself. I wanted to trust him.

"There is something I've been wanting to do," he said gently, his voice sounding nervous and unsure."But you have to stand very still," he directed. "Close your eyes," he added softly, as he came closer.

I closed my eyes, and in that blackness I knew the chances. I knew _my_ chances. Maybe my inability to truly die would assay any guilt he might feel at causing my death. But I didn't care if he ripped out my throat, because— and I realized with a start— I did trust him.

No pain came, but a soft pressure, cold and firm tracing the edges of my lips. The contact seemed almost electric and my pulse started to thrum madly. My lips moved on their own as I responded, kissing back with the passion that seemed to spring out of the blackness.

Without sight I embraced my other senses, my lips relished the way his marble lips seemed to move seamlessly over mine. It was hard to breathe, when I did his scent filled my nostrils, a rich invitation. And the taste of his mouth, different from my own, slightly bitter with a metallic trace. And around us, the music continued to play, swirling us up is some beautiful storm.

"Enough," he said softly, pulling away.

Not enough! A voice inside me screamed. How many centuries have I waited to feel this strange connection?

I pushed forward as he drew away, oddly enticed by the way his hands grasped my forearms firmly, the slight pain as he pushed me away. But he was no less finished than I was, I could sense the reluctance. I pushed against his strict grasp, pulling myself closer until our bodies seemed to inhabit the same space. He was so cold, and yet his body possessed the same energy mine did.

"No," He broke our contact with a force that sent me stumbling backwards, he cowered away from me, hunching his shoulders and hiding his face. I didn't need to see his eyes to know they must rival the darkness outside.

I swallowed, what had come over me?

I looked up to see him looking at me with a horrified expression, his gaze focused on my forearms that now were marked with red hand prints from the force of his grip.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking more stricken than was deserved.

"Yeah, me too. I didn't mean to make you..."

He laughed deep, but it was harsh sounding, "Make me, as if you could _make me_." His face broke into a sneer I was beginning to interpret, one of deep inner loathing.

"Don't do this," I said suddenly, feeling angry, "I've waited too long, don't make this seem wrong. I'm not so fragile, remember." I reached out a hand to him, drawing him closer to me.

He seemed unhappy, but followed as I pulled him until he stood next to me again. He was taller than me, enough that I rose on my tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"So it really is your favorite," he asked, his voice sounding surprisingly normal now. He gestured to the music when I looked at him in confusion.

I smiled, "Yes, it really is."

"I suppose you heard it played by Chopin," he added with a somewhat mocking tone.

I crossed to my bed as I rolled my eyes, I sat near the head and leaned back on the pillows. "You've got the wrong idea about us," I commented. "Vampires can hold onto money, with us it's a little difficult You know, what with dying. We've never been well funded. Even if I were in Paris when Chopin lived, I'd hardly have been the type to go to concerts."

"What type were you?" Edward asked. He took a seat on the floor and leaned against my bed, his head close to me and my lamp lit up strands of his copper hair.

"The type who wondered where her next meal was coming from," I answered. I followed my impulse and ran my hands softly through Edward's hair, it seemed strangely soft for a vampire. "Marius was always ready for the next fight, we never really settled and lived our lives. Always moving, always on the trail." I sighed. Now that I wasn't with him it seemed a mere annoyance, or something to pity. Living it made me feel angry with the helplessness of it.

"He was that dedicated," Edward asked. I couldn't see his face, but I sensed he was frowning.

"In all the centuries, he's never faltered."

"Sort of commendable really," Edward commented thoughtfully.

"Insane is more accurate," I argued. "He keeps fighting, dying. All to get back at the first vampire who crossed his path. I don't think he's willing to forget and just live, I don't think he knows how anymore."

Maybe sad was a better word to use, I thought with some pity.

"You said the vampire interrupted a wedding," Edward reminded me.

I shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, his wedding."

"He lost the woman he loved?" But it was less a question and more a statement.

I crossed my arms, "He lost his pride."

Edward tilted his head back and examined me, he was trying to figure out my thoughts and I forced my face to be expressionless.

I looked away, "When he was human," I explained, "He and another man both— they felt possessive of a girl. She was the right match, and for whatever reason they wanted to marry her. Marius was strong and powerful, athletic and dedicated. Marcus, his rival, was intelligent and closely spiritual. The girl's father chose Marius and the date for the wedding was set."

"Good for Marius," Edward mused.

"Bad for Marcus," I added with some pain. "He was angry, in his rage, Marcus was convinced that he had been overlooked because he was seen as weaker, and so he went to the temple of his favorite god and brought with him a sacrifice. He plead his case to his god, offering up the slave he brought if only the god would grant him the power to defeat Marius."

The story felt old to me. But at least I remembered it, I didn't parrot the story like some legend as some of the other twelve did.

"A god?" Edward said. I could tell he was grasping the facts quickly enough.

"Marcus was shocked when the statue, cold as ice and hard as marble, seemed to come alive. It was amused by Marcus's tale. But said that the blood from the slave wouldn't be enough, that Marcus would have to offer his own blood as well."

"A vampire," Edward said.

"A very clever one," I commented. "He changed Marcus, made him as he was. And on the day of Marius's wedding, Marcus emerged in his new glory. He thought he'd been made a god."

"He destroyed everyone," Edward finished, his face a frown and his eyes full of pity. I wondered who he felt the pity for, the people who died, Marcus the fool, or for we cursed twelve?

"That wasn't his intent. He went to stop the wedding, to claim his _love _as his bride. He wasn't anticipating the cost of his new godhood. Because, when he neared the girl he became overwhelmed by the delicious smell of her blood...he drank her dry I'm afraid."

Edward remained silent for a time, but when he spoke his voice was hushed and he seemed to be restraining some sort of emotion, "I can understand why Marius would pledge his life to destroying such a monster."

"Marcus wasn't a monster," I relented, although for years I had thought so. "He was a newborn vampire, filled with thoughts of vengeance, covetous, and without the guidance you had."

"He killed the woman he loved," Edward protested, I could see he was determined to hate Marcus in this tale.

"He didn't love her," I said softly. "Not really. Marius and Marcus fought over things all their lives, this was just another."

I wondered for a moment if Edward would ask the question that I dreaded he would. But the silence dragged on and I began to rest easier. The music still sent waves of melody through the room and the sound began to lull me into a peaceful doze as the struggles of the day caught up with me. I yawned and Edward turned his head at the noise, seeming almost surprised by the sound.

"Humans sleep," he said, seeming to speak more to himself than to me.

"Unfortunately," I commented tiredly.

He rose to his feet and looked at me questionably. I could tell that he didn't want to leave.

"Stay," I offered softly.

He stared at me for a long time and I wondered what he saw. What did I look like to him? He dropped to his knees suddenly, moving in that swift and seamless way that they moved, he put his arms on my bed and rested his head there. I turned, curving my body so that I was facing him, my knees curled up. He raised a hand, and just as I had, he stroked my hair. His fingers were so light I could barely feel the motion. It was very easy to become relaxed, and I felt the tension of the day slip away. My eyelids fluttered closed and I allowed myself to doze.

My lamp turned off and my eyes opened at the surprising darkness.

"Sleep," he encouraged.

I moved closer to him, lying so that his arm was near to my body. A blanket rose up and covered me as I continued to enjoy the simple fact of his presence.

"It's nice with you here," I muttered sleepily.

He silently stroked my hair again.

And the music played softly as I continued to drift into a very deep sleep. I had a strange dream of Edward and me dancing under a faint light. It might have been another time, the pair of us moving with candle light and gowns and crisp collars, it might have been the prom which had everyone at school buzzing. I couldn't really tell because all I could see were Edward's eyes and his smile as he looked down on me.

I woke slowly and hazily, noticing that it wasn't yet light out. I tossed and moved to see my clock.

"It's still late, go back to sleep," Edward's voice said softly.

I followed his voice, but I couldn't see him in the dim light. "Hmm, where are you?"

His cold hand seemed to brush my cheek and I shivered at the chill, he pulled away quickly.

"Come here," I said, sliding over to make room on the small bed. As the silence continued I wondered for a moment if he would. I wondered if I was rushing things. But somehow the idea of sleeping beside Edward was natural and I didn't feel and ounce of shame or guilt for the desire.

The bed creaked slightly and a presence, carefully situated so to not touch me, joined me on the bed.

"Mhmm," I mumbled, "Isn't this more comfortable."

"A little distracting actually," Edward said. His voice lacked the huskiness of sleep.

I chuckled before curling against his shoulder, "Tell me a story," I said. My eyes had adjusted to the light now and I could see the outline of his face. "I told you one," I said remembering our conversation from earlier.

"A story?" Edward seemed confused.

"Mmhm," I sighed, my hands held his colder arm. "A nice one please."

"You sound like a child," he teased. "But maybe you're older than me."

"Hmm, not really. I feel old sometimes, but I'm still just seventeen. Do you feel like that too."

"I always feel old," he said cryptically.

"Sad," I muttered, closing my eyes again.

"You really feel seventeen?"

"I am seventeen," I replied. "Sometimes the other lives seem like a story I heard once. Sometimes I remember them like they happened yesterday. Sometimes I don't even think I really remember all of them. I mean, I remember some, the important ones. But some...they've gotten fuzzy, blended together. It would be hard to remember all I've lived."

"How old...how many lives..." He wanted to know, but I could tell his reluctance.

"Never ask a lady her age," I teased lightly.

"My mother used to say that," He said gently.

His hand was weaving through my hair again, slowly and I was finding it difficult to stay awake.

"My mother, she was different than most mothers," Edward began his voice low and whispering in my ear. "Some things about my human life are hard to remember. I can't remember where my father worked, I can't remember the name of an old dog we had, and the house we lived in seems so dark and unclear. But I remember my mother better than anyone. She glows in my memories. I think maybe she was like me."

"Like you?" I asked sleepily.

"Maybe she could see the future like Alice, or read minds like me. Maybe she was just smarter than people gave her credit for." He trailed off thoughtfully.

"But she used to tell me things, I didn't understand them most of the time. There was one time, even when I became a vampire, I still remembered it clearly.

"I grew up in Chicago, on my tenth birthday, my mother invited the neighborhood children inside for some cookies and lemonade. I'd been busy trying to get a game of baseball organized when a girl from next door, her name was Lucy," he seemed shocked to remember such an insignificant detail.

"She came up to me and offered me a small box of biscuits as a gift. She claimed to have made them herself, just for me, and she..." He seemed embarrassed.

"She gave you your first kiss," I whispered.

"Yes," he rolled onto his side.

It was too dark for me to see him, but I knew he could see me.

"On the cheek," he corrected.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"I told her she didn't make the biscuits, her mother did." He was close to me now, so near I could feel his breath on my ear.

"I could sense things like that, always could tell when people lied to me. She ran home crying. I didn't really understand what I'd done. But my mother came to me and told me something I've never forgotten.

"I said I'd only told the truth. _But what was the harm in giving her the moment, _she said, _Edward life isn't always about the absolute truth, but it's about enjoying the moments of happiness we are given. The moments that are worth remembering. _Sometimes I think she knew I was different."

I thought for a moment about the lesson his mother had shared with him, it was wise. And she was right, I'd played many roles, told many lies, but I'd never regretted enjoying the times of happiness when I was allowed them. Living only for the permanence of the future amounted to not living at all. It was better to take the moments when they came, and make them happy while you could.

The silence had dragged on and only the night sounds filled the void. Edward's breathing was nearly nonexistent, he was a silent companion. But the rest of house breathed and creaked, the old pines behind the house were swaying in a soft wind, a storm had breezed it while I'd slept. And the quiet ticking of the living room clock.

"I think...I'll love you, forever," I said softly, allowing the darkness to hide the fear of my confession.

Edward's silence wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be.

I fell back asleep, curled to his side and listening to the rain falling on the roof.

The next morning I felt strangely cold and reached for my blanket, pulling it closer. The process was helped by a cool hand lifting the blanket and raising it over my shoulder.

I blinked, and finally opened my eyes to see Edward's chin inches from my face, my body wrapped around him, my arms holding him almost as if he were a favorite teddy bear.

"Morning," he said with a slight chuckle, my surprise must have been evident.

I untangled myself from him, sitting up in bed and looking around. "What time is it?" I asked, not entirely certain if I should feel embarrassed.

"About seven," he answered.

"Seven," I shrieked, covering my mouth at the sound of it. I flew to my dresser and began throwing about my clothes in hopes of finding something to wear. I'd been planning on doing some laundry today, and I needed to check on Mrs. Winters, and I never had gotten around to doing any homework last night.

Edward once again seemed entertained by my humanity.

"You still have plenty of time to get to school," He informed me calmly.

Boys, I thought irritably. Did they think it took nothing more than throwing on some clothes and eating breakfast to be ready for the day. I'd almost stripped out of my top before I stopped suddenly. My eyes flickered to Edward...who seemed to have stopped breathing again.

"You should go," I said, "You know, change, say morning to your family." I tried to make the order seem a little nicer, but Edward looked slightly relieved to be leaving.

"I'll swing by and pick you up," he told me.

"You don't..."

"I'll pick you up," he repeated. He paused for a moment, "And Alice really would like if you wore something she picked out."

I glanced at my old clothes and then the new ones that now filled the closet.

I couldn't.

When I looked up again Edward was gone, he hadn't used the door, not that I had noticed. I looked around hesitantly before once again looking at the closet of clothes that Alice had chosen for me. While she had good taste, I thought irritably, there were many things that I knew I would never wear. Including a sparkly silver halter top. However a sweater, of a deep blue color made me pause. I touched it almost against my will— it was as soft as I thought it would be.

Mrs. Winters was feeling better today. I could tell because she was awake and sitting up in her usual chair when I left my room.

"Nice sweater," She managed to say, her voice sounding breathy and a little hoarse.

I looked down at the blue top and tried to avoid the cringe, "Thanks," I said masking my annoyance.

"Are you feeling better?" I asked, although my answer was obvious.

She nodded, "I could eat," she said looking toward the kitchen fondly.

"Anything," I answered, not caring for a moment that I might be late for school. Of course with Edwards diving I might be able to make a full breakfast and still make it too class on time.

"Pancakes," she said.

I nodded, "Pancakes it is."

Staring out the kitchen window, I realized the day was nice, the weather was looking better than ever and I wondered for a moment if Edward would be able to go to school today. The rain storm the previous night had broken way to a glorious morning. I pushed open the window that was above the sink and was rewarded with a fresh cool breeze that carried in the heavy scent of the pines behind the house and the musical chirping of the few spring birds who had arrived early.

I mixed together the batter, humming slightly. The first spluttering crackle of the batter on a pan made me feel slightly nostalgic. How long had it been since I'd made pancakes? The soft, almost hidden scent of them as they rose and bubbled.

"Hmm, looks good," Mr. Winters was framed in the door and sniffed the air appreciatively. He too looked to be in a good mood and it seemed for a moment like death had left the Winters house.

"Yeah," I agreed.

Edward arrived while Mrs. Winters was on her second batch, she looked content and the color had returned to her face. Edward's knock seemed to shock my guardians and they glanced at each other before Mr. Winters rose to get the door.

"It's probably just my..." I trailed off as Mr. Winters seemed to ignore my voice and moved to the front door.

"Hello," Edward greeted formally, "Is Bella ready? I came to pick her up."

"Uhm," Mr. Winters grunted, he hooked a finger and gestured for Edward to come in.

Edward looked hesitant but he entered and stood looking out of place in the Winters's living room.

"Are you ready Bella? Or should I…" he trailed of awkwardly. He'd seen the living room before but I realized that he'd never actually met my foster parents.

Mrs. Winters sent me a telling grin, I was suddenly remembering our chat the other evening and I wondered if my face flushed.

"So," Mrs. Winters rasped. "You're the boy."

"Yes, I'm Edward Cullen, it's nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Winters."

The atmosphere seemed strangely tense.

"You be a good boy," Mrs. Winters said, raising her eyebrows and looking at him with probing eyes.

For some reason Edward seemed to shift nervously, I had the strange feeling that if Edward could blush his cheeks might be a tad red.

Mr. Winters grunted his approval.

"I'll take good care of Bella," Edward said with a serious nod.

Mrs. Winters seemed terribly amused and I wanted to die, or at the very least bury myself away in a hole somewhere. Edward caught my eyes and his own seriousness seemed to disappear, replaced by the amusement that my human qualities seemed to spark.

"I'll have to do some grocery shopping today," I said, grabbing my bag and following Edward out.

"I'll take her," Edward offered.

Mr. Winters nodded, he dug into his pockets, took out his wallet and handed me some cash.

"Some apples would be nice," Mrs. Winters said from her chair, her own amused face turning back to the television as we were leaving.

When we were out of the house I stayed silent as we got into the car, part of me wondering what to say. I wanted to ask him about this faithful dog routine, but a part of me wanted him there as much as he was...so there wasn't much point in questioning it.

"They seem nice," He said conversationally.

Nice? There had been a time when I wouldn't have thought that. But maybe we were a better fit that even I had thought.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Nice sweater," he mentioned, just as the engine roared to life and we sped out the Winter's driveway.

I groaned, "I'm changing," I stated firmly.

Edward chuckled as we pulled onto the road, "Too late now."

Arriving at school two days in a row with Edward Cullen seemed to have cemented us into the popular gossip of the school. I caught Jessica's eyes and I didn't need to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking. I wasn't positive how I felt about these assumptions. On one level I was in love with Edward...but we weren't exactly dating. Or were we?

"What are we?" I found myself whispering. It was a question I had asked Edward before.

His amber eyes flickered in my direction, his expression unreadable.

"I mean..." I gestured with my hands helplessly. "If I were to call you my _boyfriend_." I shook my head, it sounded ridiculous. "That's too weird right," I muttered, I glanced at his shocked expression. "Yeah, what I thought, it sounds..." It sounded wrong in many ways. Edward wasn't just a boy, I wasn't just a girl, in a different way the phrase sounded too trivial for what Edward meant to me.

"I wouldn't mind," Edward said suddenly, he'd been reading my facial expressions again. "If you wanted to call me that..."

I watched him closely, his eyes crinkled slightly and his lips seemed to hold the barest trace of a smile. He was...happy about it.

I bit my lip. "Okay...sounds good."

"Keeps things simple," he added, a touch of that practicality back in his voice.

"Simple," I released a sigh and the notion, "Yeah, best to keep things simple."

I found myself looking forward to lunch once again, when was I not? But today it was for a reason different than I'd grown used to. I actually wanted to see Edward, it was on my mind all day. His face kept drifting across my mind throughout the morning and I found myself remembering the previous night with varying degrees of sanity.

Jessica kept shooting me curious glances during history and I dearly wished that she wasn't quite as intuitive about relationships as she was. Jessica might be failing history, but when it came to sensing changes in the present she was dead on.

When the bell rang at the end of class I thanked my lucky stars for her dismal history grades when she was held back with a few other students to schedule retakes on our most recent test. I bolted through the door intent of reaching the cafeteria, and hopefully the Cullens table before she could catch up with me.

"In a rush?" Edward's voice intruded.

I stopped short, "Er...yeah." I noticed that he seemed to be holding some food and had been headed away from the cafeteria.

"How about eating somewhere else," he offered, "I promise to let you eat."

"Okay," I said hesitantly wondering what he had planned.

We didn't have to go far, Edward cut between two of the buildings and we emerged at the side of the school. I hadn't been this way yet, and looked around wondering what was over here. It seemed that the track and field stadium was over this way, although stadium was a bad descriptor. The land was mostly just a big cement circle track with a few bleachers to one side.

Edward led us to the aluminum bleachers and we climbed to the top where he stopped and settled the food down off to one corner.

"It seemed warm enough to eat outside," he offered doubtfully, temperature was difficult to judge from a vampire's standpoint.

I nodded, a faint cloud cover blocked the sun but the day was pleasant, nearing into the lower sixties with a warm breeze.

He shrugged off his jacket and spread it out on the metal to try and dampen the chill, he encouraged me to sit on it and he straddled the seat not sensing the cold.

"Any reason for this," I asked, looking for some motive. Perhaps he was honestly worried about me not getting enough to eat again.

"Seemed better, and Alice was a little excited. She saw you wearing— "

"Uh," I groaned and bit into the fruit salad he had brought me. "I'm just going to give it all back."

"Don't do that," Edward said with a grin, "That color blue really suits you."

I looked up a little startled by the compliment, indeed his eyes did seem fixed on me and I tried to embrace the attention quietly, suffocating a smile.

I ate my food while Edward continued to look at me, and eventually I started to concentrate on the world around us and his focus faded into the background. Forks High, like much of the town itself was edged by a ring of forests that gradually faded up into the mountains. They weren't mountains of any distinction, no towering impossible height of stone, the land simply rose up, making it seem as if the trees scraped the sky and loomed over the town.

"Tell me a story," he said, my brief glance at his direction knew well enough that he was repeating my sleepy request the previous evening.

"Hmm, a story," I grew thoughtful.

"You must have some, living the lives you have?"

"I told you, some of them are fuzzy," but I concentrated and tried to think of a story that I could tell him.

"This might interest you," I said, it was one of the darker times in my life but I thought perhaps Edward might grasp some of the history of it. "You were born in Chicago, I was there during the Fire."

"_The_ Fire," Edward said, although the emphasis wasn't necessary to anyone who had been there during that time.

"Yep,_ The Great Chicago Fire_," I shook my head at the title history had given it, it hadn't seemed so great at the time.

"Marius had all the twelve, so he decided to go after a vampire that he wasn't fond of. Marius wasn't fond of many vampires, of course, but this one was cruel. He preferred the blood of children you see and..." I broke off seeing the look of disgust on Edward's face, obviously he didn't need anymore visual description. "Marius had been hunting him for lifetimes, been killed a time or two. It was pure luck that we were able to catch his trail that October."

"It was dry night, a dry wind was blowing. The whole season had been dry, we should have left matters alone. But Marius..." I shrugged, staring into the woods. There was no explaining Marius, his dogged pursuits through the centuries denied sense.

"He found him in the poorer district of town, he was in an alley...and he had gotten a hold of a girl, just a little thing. Marius managed to get a flew blows, maybe just his will was strong enough that night...and they tore down a shed to get the wood to start the fire...but it was dry and the portion of Chicago had been made during the lumber boom, everything was wood. The fire spread..."

I remembered watching the flames catch and consume the city.

"We ran like everyone else, and I remember sitting with Marius in a park that had once been a graveyard, and he stayed up all night to watch the city burn."

Edward looked ahead blankly, "My grandfather used to tell me tales about the fire," he sounded a little unsure of this and I remembered that a vampire's human memories could seem dull and hazy after the transformation.

"People called it one of the worst disasters in the century," I said, remembering the headlines that had flooded the United States afterward. I shook my head, "but Marius said it was worth it in the long run, he didn't think of the people who died in the fire...I guess he thought about the children he saved."

Edward nodded, he looked unsure, "Why did you stay with him all this time?"

"I..." words failed, how could I possibly explain what Marius was to me. At times I hated him, other times he seemed to fill up my world with purpose. He had always been there, almost as if the world could wither and die but Marius would still be there.

"He- it's hard to explain. I suppose being alone is hard to bear, as all this time passes. Marius has always been there."

Edward frowned, "You always join him."

"Not me, I don't…" I shook my head. "When he wants to...he find me."

"And you go with him?"

I wondered what Edward was looking for, his expression seemed very penetrating and I'd prefer if he didn't try and dissect the strange relationships inside the twelve.

"I always have," I answered.

"Where is he now?" Edward demanded, once again his tone confused me.

I shrugged, "South of here," I answered, "California I think," I said, although I knew as soon as I said it that it was true. We shared a connection of sorts, I could sense him just like he could sense me.

"And when he comes for you this time?"

I knew what he was wondering now. I wished I had an answer for him, but I didn't. Because if Marius showed up now and told me to come with him...I wouldn't want to go. But would I? Would I have a choice?

"He's six right now," I said avoiding the question. "He won't be able to come for a little while yet."

Edward's gaze didn't leave mine and I decided to eat more of my lunch while the silence hung heavy on us. But the food was tasteless and I had to mechanically chew it. When my eyes flickered in his direction he seemed to be thinking something darkly, his expression had disappeared leaving his face looking less human. Cold. I was reminded of how fragile this emotion inside of me was. Love, a part of me wanted nothing to do with it. Was there a more painful weak emotion?

We heard the first bell ring, there was five minutes until class.

"I don't want to go to school, and you don't need to," I said tiredly. I jerked in surprise when I felt his fingers slid through my hair and run down my back. He wrapped a hand around my waist and pulled me against him. I closed my eyes and held onto this feeling.

It was fragile, but being here tucked in Edwards arms, my heart thrumming and my body alive with tingling sensations. This was being alive, the rest of it was just breathing.

"We should still go," he whispered.

I nodded. "Yeah."

* * *

Grocery shopping with a vampire is one of life's unexpected difficulties.

I'm rather speedy when it comes to shopping, in my long existence I didn't want to waste time dithering around with one of life's more annoying chores. It had to be done of course, and my arrangement with the Winters was dependent upon being useful, but that didn't mean that I spent my time composing menus. I'd created a very short list of necessities during one of my afternoon classes and when Edward pulled his Volvo in the local market I anticipated spending no more than thirty minutes collecting the items on said list.

That was over and hour ago and Edward was still analyzing the frozen foods section.

"I gather you don't do the 'shopping' in your family," I provided, moving anxiously from one foot to another.

Edward pulled his gaze away from the frozen dinners to shake his head. "Esme usually does all that, but she's never brought anything like this home." He seemed honestly perplexed as he stared a 'Mighty Meal'.

"Yeah, well...I suppose she's used to actually cooking," I commented, thinking that Esme was likely turned long before microwaves.

"Have you had this? What does it taste like?" Edward pointed to the frozen meals.

"You can live on it," I said absently, trying to slowly push my cart away. "If you want to look I'm going to finish the rest of my shopping," I told him.

He grinned and I momentary forgot what I was mad about, well, almost.

"What else is there?" he asked me.

I showed him the list and was a little pleased that his pace had increased some, although his gaze did linger for longer than needed on some of the newer food choices available.

"Miss eating?" I asked him.

He gazed at a jar of marinara sauce, "I little, I suppose. It's sort of hard to remember what eating food was like. But I'm certain we didn't have all...this."

I laughed, "The plus side of being born in many different lives is that I've lived all over the world. Grown up eating all kinds of food."

"How does that work?" Edward asked pensively.

"Well," I said thoughtfully, "It's difficult to explain. You die...I remember dying...except when we walk toward _the light_, you know, like humans always say...well when we get there it's..." I shook my head. "It's like we're born...but everything is hazy at first."

"Can you be born anywhere..." Edward trailed off.

"No...we tend to be born in clusters I suppose. Close to each other. If I died today I'd probably be born somewhere near Marius. It's like we're tied together in some way."

Edward stared blankly, and once again I was at a loss to what he was thinking.

"We should go," he stated and his expression shifted again. He seemed to tilt his head in a manner almost like he was listening to something that was in the distance. Perhaps he was, still it was slightly irritating to have Edward hurry up our shopping trip when thus far he had been the only hindrance.

Still, I had finished my shopping and was making quick conversation with the checkout clerk while Edward stood silently beside me. His gaze kept drifting to the door, and I had the odd suspicion that he was apprehensive about something.

He seemed to have settled himself with the inevitable when an older man in a wheelchair rolled his way into the market. I couldn't understand the slight frown this man created in Edward. He was a in his forties with well worn laugh lines ringing his eyes and mouth, his black hair was streaked with a little gray and hung about his shoulder. He seemed to be part of the local tribe and necklace he wore around his neck bore some of the carving ornamentation that they were famous for.

He flirted jocularly with a middle-aged woman who handed him a cart, but the warmth left his expression as Edward and I passed him, heading toward the parking lot.

I felt slightly exposed, as if the man's dark eyes followed us the entire length of the pavement, and even once we had settled in his Volvo.

My gaze shifted to Edward, but I didn't want to ask him what it was about. So I turned the radio to a classic rock station that featured songs from the fifties and allowed the music to drown my worries away.

After a mad dash through town, Edward brought me safely back to the Winter's home. A loud drilling noise was coming from Mr. Winter's shed, so I knew where he was.

"I should probably," Edward gestured in the direction of his house and I understood.

I nodded and then felt unsure what to do next. Edward was standing next to me, looking down at me. Normal human gestures seemed to be a problem for both of us, but Edward cautiously raised his hand and slid through my hair, along my shoulder and then down my arm, his cold hand grasping the fingers on my hand for only a moment.

I closed my eyes, enjoying this brief touch, before he was gone and back in his car.

"Later," he said. But the word didn't possess the casual quality uttered by most teenagers, and I felt the promise in his words.

I walked inside as I heard his Volvo speed away, the tires hitting the road and the noise vanishing. I set my backpack down and carried the few necessities I'd purchased to the kitchen. When I came out I was somewhat surprised to see Mrs. Winters awake, settled in her recliner and watching TV. She looked like she'd been waiting for me and nudged the other chair with her foot when she entered.

"School?" she asked in her brief way.

I shrugged, what was school ever like?

"Cullen boy seems nice," she said, her voice was a little less husky and I wondered if the latest trip to the hospital might have done her some good.

"Yeah," I agreed politely.

"You be careful," she stated with a tired way, "You wouldn't be the first girl to get pregnant and ruin her life in this town."

I struggled not to cough or choke, anything to not reveal the shock her words had been to me. Mrs. Winters seemed full of surprises, I hadn't been expecting the sex talk. Sadly she was several hundred years too late.

"Oh I know, he seems to love you," she said, "but don't go and do what he wants just for that. Be smart. Men like to work for it anyway."

How could I explain that having sex with Edward had never even crossed my mind? Perhaps I knew it could never happen, and that alone had blocked such ideas from appearing.

"I'll remember that," I said instead.

She nodded, shifting her focus back to the television.

I decided to spend a little more time on dinner tonight, just on the off chance Mrs. Winters wanted to discuss anything else equally as embarrassing. She had mentioned wanting apples this morning so I sliced one thinly and brought it out to her before hurrying back to my task.

Later that evening, as I cleaned the dishes, I couldn't help but reflect on Mrs. Winters advice. Was it really strange that I hadn't considered that? I'd even slept next to Edward, and somehow the idea of us making love had never been a thought. Part of it involved the physical limitation, Edward could probably bench-press his Volvo if he so chose. I wasn't quite as durable.

But another part of me wondered if I hadn't considered the topic for another reason.

I closed the washing machine door with a snap and refused to continue that line of thought.

Maybe the answer was as simple as...well, in all honesty, sex wasn't crucial. Teenage hormones might say differently, television, movies and music might say differently, but my centuries knew something that such short existences couldn't. That while sex could feel amazing, and while it might be a way to feel the intensity of passion and heat. But the love of lifetimes was based on deeper moments. And things like brief gestures, touches and looks, could possess romance.

And for me, romance was enough.

"Night," Mrs. Winters said softly. Her day filled with energy had left her lethargic and she lay curled in blankets in her chair. Her breathing was heavy again, still I couldn't help but hope she had another day of health tomorrow.

I smiled to show I had heard her words."Goodnight," I added as I crossed down the hall and into my room. The television flickered in the dim light and I left the Winters to their time alone. I wondered how many evenings they had spent like this, nestled in their silence, the slow comfort of each other's presence.

That was the thing that I had always admired about love, not the intense passion or the blinding energy, but the steadiness it could take. Not much in my life had ever been steady, not even among the twelve.

So, perhaps there was a part of me that knew Edward would be waiting for me when I got to my room. It made a much sense as knowing that the sun rose in the east.

"Does your family miss you?" I couldn't help asking. The Cullens seemed unusually close for vampires.

Edward seemed to pause and take my question seriously. "Esme wants to know why you can't come over for dinner again," he supplied instead of answering directly.

I took that as a yes, "Maybe if I planned on a day I could make the Winters's dinner early. Although I'm not certain I can trust Mr. Winters with operating the stove."

"What about those frozen dinner things?" Edward asked, recalling our trip to the grocery store.

I shrugged, "If they had that, then they don't need me." I said it partially sarcastically, but the part that knew it was true must have shown on my face. Either that or Edward was getting better at reading my expressions.

"You really think that don't you," he stated, soundly slightly amazed.

I decided to ignore that line of questioning, "Maybe I can arrange something this week? Over the weekend?" I planned thinking of how late in the week it already was. "Or next week."

My life shifted like the sand. Promises like this, what did they mean anyway?

"I might have to hold you to that," he stated.

The night wore on in a manner that was so typical that it seemed strange. I settled at my desk and did my homework while Edward fiddled with the music Alice had brought for me. He liked to pick certain songs and then would deftly take them out once his favorite tune had stopped playing and quickly insert another.

He had an eclectic taste and I began to wonder if he was a musician of some sort, he was utterly focused on the music when it played and occasionally I'd see his fingers flicker subconsciously, moving to the beat of the song as if he were playing.

"Piano?" I asked, finally deciding on the imaginary instrument he was using.

His gaze flickered up and he seemed to catch himself, "That obvious?" he asked.

I shrugged.

"You play?" he asked.

I shook my head and turned back to the math homework I'd been fiddling with.

"With all that time?" He wondered aloud.

I suppose he still couldn't quite understand. For vampires their long existences served as a perfect way to perfect certain skills and talents. My life or lives, as it were, created a more fractured picture of immortality.

"The twelve aren't exactly classically educated," I evaded.

"You call them _the twelve_, who are they?" he asked. He had settled himself on my bed and was leaning against the wall, his face oddly serene.

"The twelve," I said simply, as if they had always been and always were. In my mind that was how I saw them.

"So…twelve others like you?" he asked, a frown was on his lips and he seemed to be thinking.

"No," I corrected awkwardly.

"Marius has the ability to have his will done." I explained. "He didn't know it the first time around, it didn't show up much except as a tendency for him to get what he wanted. He was just lucky like that. It isn't particularly strong, except in the last moments of his life. All those years ago, the pledge he swore, he swore that 'he and his' would never rest until vengeance was served. His. It's an important line that would have been better left out.

"Most are his children. Sons. For some reason it only sticks with the sons, we never figured out why. At first he didn't know what was happening, how could we? But after awhile we learned that Marius's sons bear the same curse he placed on us. The others of us are those bound to him in some manner. Bound to him during his first life."

"Why only ten others?" Edward asked practically. "He could make his own army couldn't he?"

I paused and tried to contain the feelings of horror that that concept created.

"No," I said vehemently, my disgust must have been obvious. "Marius is driven, but he would never doom anyone else to these lives we live. It's the twelve, and has been for centuries."

I'd extracted that promise from Marius once long ago. It had been the only time I'd threatened to leave him. To turn my back on him. But he had promised, and we had remained twelve.

Edward seemed unhappy about the finality in my tone, but I turned back to me homework and promised myself I wouldn't get into this with Edward. I didn't want him to know every story in my past. Why make trouble with what couldn't be changed? Why worry about a future that was insubstantial. It was better to enjoy a present that was rich and ripe with promise.

"I'm going to take a shower," I told him, grabbing my pajamas. It would be a good excuse to have a human moment away from him. Last night hadn't been the first time I'd slept in my clothes but it wasn't something I'd prefer.

Of course pajamas might be an exaggeration of my night ensemble, which consisted of an oversized tee and some boxer shorts. But the shower had been a wonder and I enjoyed how my body felt, smooth and fresh. Showers were certainly one of my more favorite modern inventions.

As I neared my room I noticed he had shifted back to classical. Andante by Rachmaninov, if I was any accurate judge. The slow steadiness of the early piano, light and tender, then the brokenness of the sound as it climbed in intensity.

I toweled off my hair as I entered, feeling oddly embarrassed to be dressed as I was.

"Is that-" I'd intended to ask if my musical assumption was correct, but the expression on his face stole the words from my mouth.

Edwards eyes had darkened considerably and he seemed to take in my form with a predatory gaze I thought had left him. He was next to me too fast, his arms wrapped around me, his hands grabbing my shoulder blades. He pulled me close to him, his nose sliding along my temple, his hands sliding down my back.

"Edward," the intensity forced my voice to tremble.

But it wasn't fear, as I had expected. This strange attraction he had for me worked both ways, and even as he pulled me closer I felt my body take him in, even as his face moved down the soft skin of my throat, his nose trailing softly to the nape of my neck.

He groaned, and briefly, so briefly I wondered if it had happened, he pressed his lips to my throat.

"You smell…" he trailed off.

I tilted my head so that our eyes met and the he shied away from looking at me, hiding the desire I'd already seen in his eyes. It seemed that me, the scent of me without all the chemicals that humans used to alter their scent was more powerful than I had anticipated.

The closeness must have been torture to him, and yet I still found myself amazed at his ability to refrain from hurting me. Even his hands, their pressure was still gentle and not crushing.

"How do you do it?" I wanted to know, needed to know, because it still amazed me.

He didn't need my question explained. "I want to," he answered darkly, "But I can't. Even with your…" he trailed off unsure how to categorize my difference.

I wasn't certain if I wanted it explained in any more depth. Maybe the fact that he _was _stopping himself mattered more than the reason why.

"I should probably go," he said softly, his nose resting at my temple. "You smell too good tonight."

I chuckled, "Coward."

He laughed too, and pressed a kiss into my forehead, "It's not me I'm worried about."

But his hand rested on my shoulders for a moment, and I looked up into his unsure eyes.

"I won't be able to be at school tomorrow," he told me, there seemed to be some concern on his features. "Alice says to expect a sunny day."

"I'll be fine, it's Friday. I can't get into too much trouble." I told him, picking up on the issue that must have caused his eyes to be narrow with worry. "I've done fine on my own."

Edward seemed to doubt this, "Ever lived long enough to die of natural causes?" he asked.

I thought for a moment, "Nope."

He sighed.

"Go and have a nice day," I encouraged him. "Go- hunting." I was suddenly certain that must be how they spent the days when the sun came out. The mention of hiking that the other students of Forks mentioned must be cover for more necessary activities.

"I'll miss you."

"What will you miss?" I asked honestly curious.

"I'll miss your silence," he said, once again pressing his face into my hair.

And then he was gone.

I collapsed on my bed until the fluttering palpitations of my heart stopped and my mind was able to realize how long it had been since someone missed me. Anything about me. Even my silence. The twelve never missed anyone. Time was different for us. It spanned on forever, there was no missing, there was no chance of losing, not among ourselves. I closed my eyes and relished how perfect everything was.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: The Only Thing that Stays the Same is Change

* * *

I awoke tiredly, the world was still dark and blurry. But it wasn't my alarm that woke me, instead it was a warm hand on my shoulder. I was shocked somehow, I'd gotten used to Edward's cool touch; the warmth and softness of a human hand jolted me more than the early wake-up.

"Adele's not breathing," Mr. Winter's shocked face and his quiet words were a silhouette in the dim light. And then he was gone.

I pulled myself from my bed, a slightly numb feeling taking over my body. I trudged tiredly, but it seemed I moved remarkably fast, emerging in the living room and standing before Mrs. Winter's still form.

Was it wrong to say I wasn't surprised. I had been able to sense the death lingering over this house for some time now. Seeing Mrs. Winters curled up in her chair, just as she had been the night before, unmoving and still, I wasn't at all surprised. I wasn't sad either, but I was sorry to see her go. She had been kind to me, in her way, and I had nothing to begrudge her for.

My hand brushed her face gently as I made a move to wrap her more tightly in the blankets. An odd gesture, her skin had grown cool but not yet cold. But her expression was loose, all the muscles in her face had released and death had its grip on her. Still, somehow the glowing happiness of her previous day of health hadn't faded. She seemed rested, peaceful even. Death hadn't been a struggle or something terrible, and for that I knew she was lucky.

Mr. Winters wasn't yet given to such reflection. Human life grows more filled with loss the more time passes. He was still new to this sense of loss in many ways.

"I'll call," I said, guiding him to the couch.

He fell rather than sat, and he clutched his face in his hands unwilling to even look at me.

The dry impersonal process of death today was odd to me. Or so I noted as I made the call to Hospice. I'd never met any nurses or doctors, but I knew they provided Mrs. Winters morphine and oxygen. I'd found a phone number a few days ago and tucked it somewhere convenient.

"This is the Winters house, she's…dead," I said gently into the receiver.

"One moment please," the empty voice on the phone said.

"Terminal lung cancer," I continued tiredly, "She's been sick for some time. Can you send someone, I don't think her husband is up to making the calls."

"And who am I speaking to," the voice wanted to know.

"Bella Swan, they've been looking after me. I don't know who they wanted to call. Mr. Winters can't talk right now."

The voice on the other end of the line paused, "We'll send someone. Do you want me to stay on the line?"

"No, I'm fine." I hung up the phone and stood uncertainly.

I'd buried my share of bodies. Now they had people who took care of things, but once there was no one to call but neighbors and friends. Wash the body, oils and perfume, dress them in their best. Somewhere else the men would be digging the grave. And when words were muttered over them you did your best to say goodbye.

I rather wished it could be the same again. It felt wrong somehow to have strangers take her away.

I crossed to the kitchen and looked out the window, the sun was rising bold and bright. Birds were chirping in the woods and the morning with slick with dew.

Edward had been right, it was going to be a beautiful day.

* * *

I sat in the Winters's living room and was unsure what to do with myself, perhaps it would have been better if I had gone to school. It was Friday, what was I supposed to be doing? Was there a test? But the Winters's house was abuzz with the activity death can bring, and somehow I couldn't leave. Mr. Winters had a sister of sorts, a married woman with thick red hair (dyed) who had come down from Port Angeles. She had brought along two children, both only a few years younger than me.

The children, a boy and a girl, were arguing over what to watch on television while Mr. Winters and his sister spoke in the kitchen. Although from what I could tell the conversation was rather one-sided.

"What could Adele have been thinking," I heard his sister say through the door. "Bringing a teenager here, what was she expecting you to do?"

Mr. Winters muttered something that was too low to hear.

"I don't know why you didn't tell me about this. I knew she was sick but I didn't know she'd gotten this bad. You never call me." She sighed, "But don't worry, I'll take care of everything, I don't suppose Adele left and word on what she wanted-"

My attention drifted back to the living room as the conversation shifted away from me and back to the endless questions involving funeral arrangement.

The boy was probably fifteen and he seemed to be in a surprisingly good mood, the girl, maybe thirteen, was less so.

"It's sort of good luck that it happened on the day of a Math test," the boy said cheerfully, "You think I'll have to make it up."

"I don't see why we had to come," the girl complained.

The boy rolled his eyes, "So, I guess we're sort of cousins," he said with a curious tilt in my direction.

"Err, don't know about that," I said honestly. I'd hardly been here long.

"Yeah, guess. So did you see her?" He had deep blue eyes and they were honestly curious. I suppose he'd never known anyone who had died before.

"Yeah," I said with a nod.

"Cool. We didn't know Aunt Adele much," the boy said. "She and mom didn't…well they didn't agree on much. And Uncle Brian was always a little..." he shrugged.

The girl leaned back on the sofa and an annoyed expression remained fixed on her face.

The TV changed to a different channel and this seemed to hold the boy's attention because it drifted away from me and his gaze attached itself to the screen. The girl must have decided to accept her situation and she watched the screen tiredly.

I had no interest in the television which meant my mind was left to wonder about less pleasant things. Like what was going to become of me. It was selfish I supposed, but Mrs. Winters was beyond worry, and nothing could be done for Mr. Winters; he'd just have to figure out his grief on his own.

My position was a little more tenuous, and judging from the conversation in the kitchen I was wondering how many more days I'd have in Forks.

"If there is an emergency number you should call it and have them get her," Mr. Winter's sister's voice crept quietly out from kitchen. "I think this qualifies as an emergency."

I couldn't hear Mr. Winter's response.

I found myself dreading leaving more than I thought I would. Once again shuffled into the busy world of the foster system, shelved in group homes. I'd never minded before, it was only until I was eighteen. But now the concept of leaving Forks seemed- I didn't want to think about it.

"Hello dear," My new 'aunt' said with a voice filled with false cheer. Her dyed hair was curled very tightly and she smiled sweetly down at me. "Let me speak with you, just for a moment."

I stood rigidly; my eyes fastened swiftly on Mr. Winters who was standing in the doorway looking like a strong breeze would knock him over, I'd get no help from him. I followed the redhead down the hall and stood outside of my bedroom.

"Well dear," she said in the same sweet voice, "It must have been a difficult day for you."

I nodded.

"Well, my brother is going to come and stay with me for a few days, he's upset as I'm sure you can imagine. And…well…." She strung her words with a frown now. "He was wondering if you could stay with a friend for a few days. Until he's back." She clearly didn't think he was going to be back, and she didn't seem to agree with what she was saying.

I nodded weakly, "Yeah, I can…I'll stay with some friends from school."

"That's good," she said. Her eyes left me as soon as she turned her back, and I knew that I was no longer any of her concern.

I turned to my room and entered it wondering what this meant. Was Mr. Winter going to keep me? Was he perhaps arguing that point with his sister? I hadn't expected that, and perhaps this was just their way of breaking the news to me easily. But I was glad not to be shipped away today. I crossed to my dresser. My black garbage bag had never been thrown away, just tucked under the bed. I knew well enough not to settle in too heavily. I loaded up the clothes I had brought with me. My gaze flickered for a moment to ones that remained in the closet. But I turned back to the dresser and only packed the cat statue that remained. I left Alice's gifts behind, I couldn't take them with me.

I ducked out the back door, I didn't want to have to tell them where I was going. I didn't want to be offered a ride; I didn't want to have to make up a destination for them, because, frankly, I didn't have any idea where I could go.

The most obvious place was Edward's house, and part of me ached to go there. Go there and eat Esme's delicious dinners, enjoy Alice's generosity, and most of all to put my worries on Edward's strong shoulder; or at the very least share them with him so I wouldn't have to carry them alone.

But I couldn't just arrive there, uninvited. While I'd come to trust Edward, and I believed in his family's adherence to their scruples…there were simply too many unanswered questions. Had Jasper come to accept me? Had Edward told his family about my unique existence? Could his family truly contain their hunger if they were constantly exposed to humans? Several hours of school was one thing, but twenty-four hours a day?

It was hard to shake the feeling of homelessness as I slung my bag and a backpack over my shoulder and walked away leaving the Winters's home behind me. I'd come to think of it as my home, even if it were only for a brief period of time. But I refused the sentimental desire to turn around and give it one last look. The house was precious, if only because Edward had been here with me. Our time here had been some of the most intimate I'd experienced, perhaps even among the twelve.

As I walked, I was extra careful to stay well off the road and headed into town, perhaps optimistically hoping that I might be able to think of something along the way.

What about Jessica, she was human which solved the majority of my problems concerning the Cullens. But somehow the idea of exposing her to the difficulties in my life seemed inappropriate. She had been a good school friend for me, someone to talk to and eat lunch with. But I'd never confided anything important to her and seemed to spend much of my time lying to her.

Edward was the only one who knew anything real about me.

And Mike, my other good friend, I couldn't go to him for several reasons.

It wasn't until I was passing a small diner, the parking lot filled with trucks and semis, that I realized how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten anything all day and after walking for a couple miles under the blinding sun a nice hunger had come upon me. I'd spotted the place several times before, walked past it on my way home from school. It was diner on the outskirts of town that catered mostly to the long haul truckers who occasionally came through Forks. Its other patrons were usually the more backwoods inhabitants of Forks, the kind who didn't want to bother putting on clean shirts and shoes before getting something to eat.

But right now the greasy fare it offered appealed to me, and perhaps anywhere that provided a place to think would have been likewise desirable.

The place was as dirty outside as in the main room, which was painted an obnoxious yellow, was filled a little too tightly with some tattered booths and mismatched tables. Most of the crowd at this hour consisted of a few men in caps seated at the counter. They had papers spread out and were eating sandwiches and hamburgers.

I entered and the one waitress at the counter looked at me blankly.

"Can I take a booth?" I asked.

She eyed the garbage bag and backpack, both obviously full, and her lips pursed questionably. I stood hesitantly and eventually she nodded, jerking her head to on in the front. "That one's clean," she mentioned.

I shrugged and settled myself in the booth, arranging my belongings in the seat across from mine. What did she think I was I wondered, runaway perhaps, or even more unflattering some teen hustler working the truck stop crowd? But could I blame her?

The menus were tucked between the ketchup and the ashtray. I fiddled with the paper for a moment before deciding what to eat.

"What do you want hun," the same woman from behind the counter asked. Up close I could read the plastic nametag that was perched on her uniform. Dawn. The name didn't fit the worn out face she had, her eyes were tired and her brows were heavily wrinkled.

"Chicken Sandwich," I ordered.

She looked at me for a moment, "Anything to drink with that?"

"Water," I requested.

"Mmhmm," she nodded, penciling in my order and walking away.

After that was done, and I found myself settled, tiredness overcame me. Maybe I should have expected all my energy to leave me after all that had happened today. I had hoped to spend my time thinking of my next steps, but my mind was blank and I stared forward not thinking anything at all.

It was times like this that I knew underneath my unique history I was still only seventeen. Edward had wondered about this and I'd explained it very badly, how could you be both young and old? But at this moment I felt seventeen and lost, so very lost in a world that seemed very lonely.

Edward asked me why I went to Marius, and this was the reason too.

"Here you go," Dawn said plopping down my sandwich on the table. Once again her eyes drifted to the bags I carried with me, but she didn't ask any questions and just walked away.

I ate mechanically, and when I was finished I continued sitting, not wanting to decide what to do next.

It was growing dark by the time I'd left the small diner. I'd stayed in the booth I'd been given for most of the afternoon, skimming a paperback I'd tucked in my backpack from the school library, and even ordering dinner too. The waitress who served me continued looking at me questionably, but thankfully the dinner hour had brought a crowd of truckers and she was too preoccupied getting them their orders. Still she seemed noticeably more relaxed when I fished through my pockets to find the cash I had on hand. I paid and left a tip, and once again I was outside.

I'd decided not to go anywhere. Or more specifically, to simply spend the night camping in the thick woods that surrounded Forks. I'd endured cold nights outdoors before, and probably would again. It wouldn't be difficult to find myself a quiet place to bunk for the night. I could make a fire, I had food in my stomach, and my winter coat would provide enough heat for the spring chill. I'd lived under worse conditions. Maybe tomorrow I could make a better decision.

I trudged between the lined up trucks, headed for the woods that were in the rear of the diner. They would serve as well as any others. I felt pleased with myself with being independent.

"You looking for a place for the night?" a voice asked me.

I turned my head and saw a middle aged man, he had a cap pulled down over his eyes and a bristly gray beard. He was leaning against the door to his semi, his gaze looking me over in way that felt uncomfortable. He licked his lips and tossed aside the cigarette he had been smoking.

"No, I'm fine," I said backing away. I was hardly naive and I could envision what this man was after.

"Pretty thing like you," he moved closer as he spoke, "I'd give you a warm place to sleep, some good food, and even money in the morning. Why don't you climb in?" he opened the door to the truck cab.

I hesitated. I had no intention of agreeing, but I felt a slight chill as his words. So this really was how people saw me, and even though it wasn't true, for a moment the shame burned. Because I really was close to what this man thought I was, another homeless teenage hustler. All my knowledge of the world, all my lifetimes, and I was no closer to finding my place in it.

Except those few moments with Edward, then I'd felt oddly right. As if I was where I was supposed to be. Which was ridiculous.

But I hadn't been paying attention to the here and now, Marius said half of my clumsiness was due to this flaw.

The man was next to me, no longer leaning on his truck, "That's a good girl," he said his hand moving swiftly and reaching under my elbow to lead me inside.

"No, " I said firmly, pulling my arm away and turning to run.

But he was quicker, and he grabbed my arm with speed and confidence. Marius's fighting lesson flashed into my head. I remembered what he told me about the sensitive areas to aim for. Groin, eyes, throat. My lack of agility had always worked against me in self defense but I used my leverage and my elbow as a weapon and aimed for his throat. I struck hard and he coughed as the air was pushed out of his larynx.

But I hadn't hit him hard enough, I realized this with a sinking feeling as his grip didn't lessen and he used his strength to fling me with full force into the hard metal of his truck. My back hit with an agonizing pain, but it was the blow to the back of my head that sent my vision flashes of white.

I should have screamed, I noted absently, as my head began to ache and the world spun. I wasn't that far from the diner. If I would've screamed…

I kicked out as I felt him drag me back to the truck. But the truck door was open and so close, and my legs felt oddly weak and my thoughts were disorganized.

Scream, I begged silently. Scream. But my voice couldn't seem to work, and even as I opened my lips the sound was so weak.

I was being dragged into the cab of his truck, and that would be the end of it. I knew it.

A low growl disturbed the strange silence that encompassed the attack.

And then time slipped away far too fast. The man's hands were ripped away from me, his nails stung my skin. His presence was gone, disappeared, and I hung weakly from the door of his truck wondering what had happened.

When I focused my eyes I found him slumped on the ground, a body sized dent in his truck, and standing looking like an avenging demon…

"Edward," I managed hoarsely. My voice still was weak and I wasn't entirely certain that I hadn't dreamed his presence.

He turned and the expression on his face was horrifying.

He was next to me before I could blink, his cold hand was on my shoulder and eyes looking down on me.

"Bella," he said my name with a soft moan, his head dipping down to rest his nose in my hair.

"I'm fine," I assured him, although I wasn't really certain if I was. My back and head ached and my legs were trembling. But I forced them to stand steady, or as steady as they could.

But he didn't believe me and his gaze drifted back to the man on the ground.

He swept me into his arms, it was more than apparent that I weighed nothing to him.

"My things," I protested, remembering my backpack and garbage bag that lay scattered on the ground, forgotten in my struggle.

Edward scooped down and carried them wordlessly, it wasn't until I was deposited in his front seat and he was behind the wheel that he made a sound.

"I have to get away from here," he said fiercely.

I had no desire to stay.

"If I stay I'll kill him."

I wouldn't have cared, a part of me knew, but Edward would. "It's alright," I said soothingly, "He didn't do anything, much."

I was trying to assay his anger, but his face grew grimmer, "You couldn't hear the vile things he was thinking."

I was glad I couldn't, my imagination was bad enough.

Not knowing really what to say, I reached my hand out and rested it on his arm. "I missed you," I decided honestly.

It probably hadn't even been twenty-four hours but it was true, I really had missed him. Without him my life had reverted back to the lonely self reliance I'd endured for so long. I hadn't realized how unhappy I had been, not until Edward had found his way inside.

"Me too," he confessed.

It wasn't until we were pulling into the Cullens driveway that I noticed where Edward was taking me. As soon as the car stopped, he was at my door opening it and helping me out. Helping implying once again carrying me as if I was so fragile I might shatter. I bit back my annoyance and remembered how grateful I was that Edward had saved me. Again.

"Carlisle," Edward yelled into the house as soon as we entered.

Dr. Cullen was before us, arriving out of nowhere, he took in Edward's expression and his own turned to a frown.

Edward settled me on a leather couch and Dr. Cullen immediately seemed drawn to the back of my head, which was still aching abominably. His cold fingers brushed over the surface of my skull and for once the vampire's cold hands were greatly appreciated.

"It's only bleeding a little," he mentioned to Edward. He moved to face me, a clever little flashlight was in his hand and he moved the device slowly, watching my eyes closely as the light flashed.

"No concussion," he assured me. "Any nausea? Dizziness?"

"No," I answered honestly. I'd had trouble after being hit, but now the only symptom seemed to be a dull headache.

His hands ghosted down my spine, and I tried to avoid cringing when he reached the place where my back had impacted the truck. It was sore. But my guise couldn't fool a vampire and Dr. Cullens probing fingers once again brushed the sore spot.

"A little tender?" he asked.

"Just a bruise. I've had broken ribs before," I answered with a nod. I could remember enough injuries to know nothing was seriously wrong.

Dr. Cullen sent a gaze at Edward who was still fuming silently.

"Edward?" he said cautiously.

"You don't know how hard it was to walk away from him," he ground out through his teeth. "The things he was thinking, I should have-"

"No," Carlisle said gently, "You were right to walk away. I'm very proud of you."

"She wouldn't be the first he took advantage off," Edward said darkly.

So my assumptions weren't wrong. I looked into my lap.

"Then we will see about getting him the punishment that human law allows," Carlisle said gently. His own eyes looked slightly sharp, perhaps he could tell more clearly than I could exactly what horrors Edward must have seen to spark such a reaction.

"Bella?" Esme's warm voice caused me to turn my head and I accepted the slight pain willingly, her warm concerned face was almost as relieving as Edward's presence.

"What happened?" Esme asked, she moved to stand behind the couch. The slight odor of drying blood must have been a tad too strong for her and she moved away from my head, her eyes still soft and worrying.

"I-" my voice trailed off and I wondered how to describe the day I'd had.

"I went to her house and it was empty," Edward said darkly, his tone losing its warmth. "I looked all over town, I finally found her behind the Robin's Nest Diner, some disgusting man was attacking her."

"Oh dear!" Esme said quickly, her hands flying to her face.

"Why were you there?" Edward demanded, his tone a little harsh.

Esme drew back, "Edward," she said his name warningly.

"Getting something to eat," I said honestly.

"Why weren't you at home."

The thought 'I don't have a home' flittered across my thoughts and I was especially glad he couldn't read my mind. I didn't want to be that pathetic.

"I-" the pause was unavoidable. "Mrs. Winters died last night. Mr. Winters went to stay with his sister for a bit."

Edward seemed to already know. "I smelled death," he said.

He settled down on the couch and rested his head in his hands, "For a moment I worried…" He trailed off weakly.

And then I knew what he had feared. The house had been filled with people, it would have made sensing with any accuracy difficult. He'd found the house vacant and the empty smell of death lingering in the air.

I moved slowly, my hands reaching out and grabbing his wrists. He hesitated for a moment before he helped me move apart his arms. I crouched beside him and bit my lip anxiously.

"It's ok, I'm still here," I said softly. I touched my heart, hoping he could understand that I meant that this body was still intact, this life was still mine.

And once again I was in his arms, his speed made it so I had been lifted close to his chest before I was even aware he was moving.

I could sense the concern of Esme and Carlisle, it came off them in waves as they stood hesitantly behind us. Edward's head was bent and nestled on my shoulder, I imagined what that must look like from their perspective.

Edward said nothing as he held me, and I was fine with the silence.

"I love you," he whispered into my ear. "I never said it, because I didn't think I should. But I'm past caring now."

I caught a glimpse of Esme and Carlisle, their shocked and (in Esme's case especially) happy faces. But I closed my eyes to them and pressed my forehead into his shoulder. Nestled in this dark space, feeling loved and safe- I knew I'd never been this lucky.

Of course the embrace was far too short. I'd grown used to Edward pulling away, whenever the hunger he battled with became too strong. But this time, oddly enough, his cold hand stayed locked in my own.

"Edward?" Esme questioned, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

I turned and the vampire beside me looked slightly sheepish, it was such a human emotion and I couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped my lips.

"Mom, Dad," he said with a tinge of irony in his voice, "Bella and I…We're-dating now."

I wondered, quite randomly, whether I blushed at this announcement or not. We were ridiculous, acting like schoolchildren.

Maybe love was always young. No matter who it touched.

* * *

Esme looked very pleased with herself, I felt as if I might explode. I'd tried to explain about my lunch and dinner at the small diner, but she just radiated this maternal glow that made it difficult to say no to. And her food was delicious.

"So, Bella," Carlisle broached as I finished eating. "I think we can procure you a bed and while I see you have your things, Alice is likely to decide on some more 'simple' comforts."

"What?" I asked stupidly. I bit my lip at the dense tone. "You want me to stay here?"

"Given the circumstances," Carlisle said, his smile dipping slightly, "Perhaps we would make the best temporary guardians."

"That's very kind of you," I said weakly, "But really I couldn't impose. Really I'll be fine. Er- camping isn't new to me so..."

Edward frowned and I felt his hand, which had somehow found its way to my knee, tighten slightly.

"I think we've established that you can't take care of yourself."

My temper flared under my skin, "Don't think I'm some fragile china doll," I hissed angrily, "You can't wrap me up and keep me tucked away."

"Today was the second time in a week that you nearly died," Edward responded coldly, "I think a little caution is prudent."

"He wasn't trying to kill me," I said thinking back to the man at the truck stop, "And my life isn't that precious anyway."

"Oh, no, dear, truly you mustn't think that way," Esme interrupted our little argument, her eyes looking gentle. She took a seat beside me and took my hand in her own. The gesture was surprisingly quick but I found myself a little surprised at how Edward's cautious touches had made me more immune to the shock of their cold skin.

"No matter what has happened, you mustn't forget that you are very special, every human life is precious."

My gaze flickered to Edward and his own expression seemed to be slightly concerned by the emphasis Esme put in her words.

"As Edward and Carlisle know, once in my human life I did not understand that. I tossed it away, and while I might always be grateful for my second life that does not make the first any less valuable."

I could put together the pieces well enough and bit my tongue, hesitantly returned Esme's gesture and squeezed her hand. Her eyes flickered at the gesture and she met my face directly.

"But I've lived so many lives I've lost count," I said sadly.

Esme blinked in confusion.

Edward hadn't told them.

I turned to look at him and my surprise must have been easily evident, I had thought they were so close that my secrets would never be something not shared with the other Cullens.

"It didn't seem right to tell them myself," he said softly, accurately interpreting my speculative gaze.

Carlisle and Esme stared at me, their expressions blank and perhaps even slightly guarded. Had the others been there maybe I would have kept silent. I didn't want Rosalie's barbed tongue, Alice's far seeing eyes, Emmett's doubt and Jasper's suspicion.

Not yet.

But Esme and Carlisle seemed so good. Not vampires, not like the kind I had always known. They reminded me of what parents should be; radiating this sense of warmth and security, what my own had been like so very long ago. I've only ever had one set of parents, despite how many have applied for the job. It's hard to grow-up again, life's secrets can only be exposed so many times. The first time someone says there is no Santa Claus it's shocking- and you can't believe again. Growing up is like that, you can pretend to be a child, you can even enjoy the illusion, but when you know about living and dying…you can't ever really be a child again.

"I'm something of an old soul," I said not knowing exactly how to explain it to them. My gaze flickered to Edward and he nodded in an encouraging manner.

"It's all due to a curse," I looked at them with some doubt, "Do you believe in curses? People don't anymore but maybe you can…" The words stuck in my throat.

"Bella's life is different than other humans," Edward explained.

Carlisle looked confused, "In what way?" he asked with the polished tone of an academic.

"When I die," I said simply, "I don't die. I'm reborn in another body. I remember my past lives, some better than others… it's a long time to remember."

"How is this possible," Carlisle asked, again his tone that of honest curiosity and not denial.

"The curse. You have to believe in something like that to understand. To believe that words have a power. Long ago, when we were truly human, my brother had the ability to have his will done."

Carlisle's eyebrows raised, and Esme's gaze flickered to Edward for a moment.

"It was weak when he was human, it's grown stronger with time but it's still not what a vampire's would be. Still, when he was dying he issued a curse on the vampire that killed him. Maybe his death made it stronger, I don't know. But his words-'Never shall me our mine rest until I've destroyed you and all like you.' It was a curse that has bound us, instead of resting we get reborn each life."

"Marius was your brother?" Edward leaned forward his brows arching.

I hadn't mentioned that, hadn't intended to, and I bit my tongue wishing I hadn't said it.

"Yes, he's my brother, in a manner of speaking."

"How is it I've never heard of this?" Carlisle asked.

I was reminded that he was likely the oldest of this family. His amber eyes, lighter than Edwards or so it seemed to me, flickered as he tried to recall a fleeting mention of such a thing during the lives he had lived.

"Not many know about us now," I said. "In the past, the long past, sometimes people discovered it. But people believed in that sort of thing more readily then, but the world changed and our story became superstition, our explanations heresy and we chose to remain quiet. And as for among the vampires…there are forces more powerful than we that like to pretend we don't exist."

"We?"

"There are twelve of them, counting Bella, twelve people who lead this unending life." Edward explained as the silence dragged.

"Twelve of us bound by the curse," I corrected. Edward didn't see it that way, he like others before him thought it meant to never die. It only meant dying again and again. If that wasn't a curse I didn't know what was.

"Where are the others?" Esme asked in confusion.

"Ten of them died in Kelso," I said softly, "Attacked by a two vampires when the one we were tracking led them into a trap. I was too young, so they left me nearby with Nomti but then…" I trailed off unable to explain to them.

They would never truly understand how things were among the twelve.

Nomti and I had entered the building not long after the others had been slaughtered but the vampires were already gone, they were Rogues who had left their bloody kill flung about sloppily.

When we heard the sirens, Nomti had left me with a nod of his head. Separations were common among the twelve and unlamented. He wasn't quite eighteen yet, but still rather strong and he had been left to protect me. But his ability to keep me safe only existed in the shadow world of vampires and hunters. He had no authority in the lives of men. As the sirens came closer, we both knew that we'd be put under the control of the state if caught, or perhaps even Nomti might be accused of committing the grisly murders himself. It was better to remain anonymous.

I might have gone with him I suppose, not that he had expected me too. He knew, as did I, that even then I had been plotting my escape.

"But they didn't really die," Carlisle commented, he seemed to have absorbed my painful silence with a tinge of respect.

I smiled, "Just their bodies, as far as I can tell they were born again not very far from here, California maybe. They're all six or seven, when such a large number of us are out of commission we tend to wait until we're seen as old enough to function in a society. That has become a longer and longer wait."

Carlisle nodded in understanding.

"If it's a smaller number?" Edward asked curiously.

I supposed I hadn't really answered many of his questions, and he must have some, "They're reclaimed." I said simply. "As long as there are enough 'adults' to justify the children we attempt to stay together. Marius doesn't like us to spend too much time in the world."

"How is it he controls you all?" Edward shook his head.

I resented his remark but I didn't let my temper get the better of me.

"You make sacrifices for family, surely you can understand how lonely eternity can be."

Edward's gaze flickered to meet mine and his eyes expressed an emotion that was unreadable.

"I haven't felt lonely lately," He said.

The words seemed sentimental and yet when he took his cold hand in my own I had the sincere belief that they were true. And I'd felt the same.

"Well," Carlisle said, making more noise when he rose to his feet than was necessary. "Perhaps we should see about getting a bed prepared for Bella."

I blinked.

"It's probably too late to get a proper bed," Esme fretted, although she seemed slightly excited about the prospect.

"Tomorrow would be better," Carlisle said practically. "Perhaps for tonight we could make up a couch bed…"

Esme tutted unhappily, "We might be able to run to Port Angeles," she said thoughtfully.

"Wait-You really want me to stay here?"

"Of course," Esme said, the warmth of her voice and the sincerity were difficult not to believe.

"I won't be an inconvenience? Really I _can_ manage on my own."

Edward's eyes narrowed but he stayed silent about my proclamation.

"We couldn't think of you staying anywhere else," Esme promised.

"What about the others," I asked trying to be a polite as possible, "I didn't think-"

"Maybe it isn't safe," Edward said suddenly.

"Edward," Esme said in a shocked tone.

"With us all to watch her," Carlisle said with a strength that surprised me, "We can keep her safe Edward."

Perhaps it was Carlisle's resolve, or maybe the way Edward relaxed, but I suddenly felt that maybe this could work.

"The others should back from their hunting trip before the morning," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "I'll discuss the matter with them."

Edward nodded, and his trust in the older vampire weighed heavy in the room. I got the distinct impression that there was something Edward wanted to say to his 'father' but he didn't want me to hear.

Esme must have gotten the same feeling.

"Come with me Bella," Esme encouraged taking my arm. "You can help me set up a place to sleep… now do you like Egyptian cotton or would you prefer something like satin to sleep in. I actually have these lovely cotton sheets, I was going to use them for some light draperies or room dividers but I think they can serve the purpose they were originally intended for."

Esme guided me past the two men and up some stairs. Most of the house seemed to have at least one wall made entirely of glass I noticed.

"Good thing you don't have many neighbors," I mentioned, looking out into the dark night.

Esme laughed gently, the noise soothing and rich, "Yes, I suppose so. I'm rather fond of modern architecture," she said soundly slightly embarrassed about it as if she was confessing an unusual quirk.

"I like it," I said quickly, "But the antiques are nice too." As we reached the top of the stairs I noted chest of drawers with knickknacks scattered across the surface. My gaze latched onto a lamp from the 1920s, a small toy airplane the kind popular in the fifties, a timepiece that was probably a century old and a Japanese fan the style that had been popular after the second world war.

I ran my finger over the old wood and recalled a time when Marius and I had been separated from the others, he'd taken an apprenticeship with a furniture craftsman and had always smelled of cedar. They hadn't all been bad times, bad memories.

"It must be hard," Esme said and I was startled out of my remembering.

"Hmm?" I asked, wondering what topic we'd drifted to.

"Losing your place every time, having to start again. We always hate to leave, move and leave the lives we've built. I miss the homes most of all." She stared out of a window and into the silent woods. "Unfair somehow, that we must leave the home we built simply because too much time has passed and we can't change with it."

She turned to look at me her amber eyes still so gentle, "But you have to leave everything, even the face in the mirror."

She turned to look out the window and this time I joined her. I could see my face reflected in the glass. She was right, each life brought a new form, it had been disconcerting at first but I'd stopped thinking about it long ago.

Esme patted my shoulder, her fingertips as soft as a butterfly wing, and we continued moving.

"Here," she lead me through an open door to a small bedroom…that lacked a bed. There was a couch however, a long one covered in white leather and looking decidedly modern and slightly uncomfortable. I gazed around the room and found that most of the walls had been made into shelves. Books of all kinds were lined up neatly to the ceiling, as well as a collection of music. Mostly CDs but also a few records.

I turned to look at Esme, wondering if this was a library of some sort, but my moth dropped open when I saw her entering through the door carrying with her a bundle of bedding. I blinked. She had been right behind me.

"Here we go," she said dropping the linens onto the couch and looking them over with an expert eye. "I originally purchased the quilts for their artistic value," she spread out one of the pieces and the vibrancy of the design really was eye catching. The different prints of cotton had been sewn together in a way I'd never seen before. Not the standard patterns of the past but rather a mosaic landscape where the maker had used the different pieces of cloth to make a picture of a mountain and tall pine trees.

"It's beautiful," I said bending over to inspect the image. It was rather like an impressionist painting, the closer you were the more abstract the image became, but when you pulled away the effect was mesmerizing.

"Yes, I found it in a small gallery in Canada." She shook her head at the wonder of it.

"Are you an artist?" I asked her, wondering more about the kind vampire, Edward's mother for all intents and purposes.

She chuckled and her eyes seemed to shine, "No, I've never had the talent. Although Carlisle says…" but she trailed off letting me silently know that she didn't trust his judgment. "I'm more of a patron for the arts, and I do believe I have a knack for displaying our little treasures."

I nodded in agreement of that.

"And you Bella," she inquired politely, "do you have any artistic ambition."

I shook my head. "I've never thought that was my skill."

"Then what is your skill."

I might have been irritated by Esme's prying, but I wasn't. There was something honestly curious about her, as if she truly wanted to get to know me.

"Taking care of people," I answered.

Her lips quirked into a tender expression, "Then we have that in common."

I watched as she moved to unfurl the bedding and make me a place that was very comfortable on the long couch. I helped with tucking in the corners and it wasn't long before we started talking about quilts. All kinds of quilts. I'd made my share, having lived in the American West for some time, and most of it poor. Esme appeared to me to have been more a lady of money, and her knowledge of quilting was more parlor stitching and when the talk fell into embroidery she grew reflective.

"It's difficult at times to remember all of my human life," she commented.

"Edward mentioned that," I added, wondering at the cause for this.

"It's strange what one remembers," she continued her gaze drifting about the room. "Some things are clear as crystal and others more fleeting. I remember when I was marrying my fist husband, I sat for hours stitching his initials and my soon-to-be ones in towels, bed linens, handkerchiefs. It was a happy time, perhaps that is why it is so vivid."

Esme was perhaps one of the kindest people I had ever met, and my opinion wasn't lessoned by the fact that she drank bood.

"Do you think it will be comfortable?" Edward asked from the doorway. He'd appeared suddenly but I was far from surprised.

"I think I'll be very comfortable, more so than in the woods, it's still a little chilly outside."

Esme inched to the door, her eyes flickering between Edward and me.

"You'll let us know if you need anything else my dear," she said exiting, her eyes seemed laughing as once again her gaze shifted between us.

Edward was doing his best to ignore his mother's curious eyes. I followed suit, my attention fixing on the walls or rather the shelves that lined them. It really was an interesting collection. There were a few books I'd expected, medical reference (Carlisle's no doubt) but also a wide collection of novels. Some classic, some more modern. Ironically enough Anne Rice's _Interview with a Vampire_ was included among the newer novels. My gaze skidded around enjoying the collection. It was sporadic and if it was organized, it wasn't in a manner that I could easily discern.

The music was similarly randomly distributed, but a large selection of classical I noticed.

Edwards eyes had been watching my perusal with a slight flickering of emotion, one I couldn't discern.

"A lot of books, and music," I mentioned.

"I like to read," he admitted in an almost nervous manner.

"Me too," I confessed, my eye slipping over the books.

"Favorite book?" Edward's question had been obvious.

I chuckled slightly, "You sure ask a lot of questions."

"Not that many," he stated raising his eyebrow and there was something of a challenging gleam in his eyes, and I remembered our conversation with Carlisle and Esme downstairs.

"I guess I haven't shared much," I admitted softly, looking away. It must seem like I tried to keep him distant. But how could I explain this to him, I'd spoken more honestly to Edward than I had any other being for centuries. Outside of the twelve, the world had always seemed a very lonely place.

"You don't have to tell me," Edward was beside me, as suddenly as if the steps separating us were nothing.

"I like many books," I said softly, "but the ones with happy ending most. Life can't be perfect and sheared up neat like that, that's why books are better."

Edward's face grew pensive.

Maybe it was the silence, maybe it was the somewhat sad expression on Edward's face.

"You can ask me anything," I said, but the fear of my words made me shudder. I didn't want Edward to know all about my life. Some of the things I was, had been, were not as I'd wish them to be, and somehow telling him about them would mark me in some manner. I didn't want to see him look at me with disgust or pity.

But I wanted him to look at me. So, I had to let him ask what he wanted and see what he saw.

"I don't need to know everything," Edward said softly. "But would you come with me?"

I took the hand he held out silently.

I'd expected him to take me outside, but his cool hand just led mine gently to the hall and down a few doors. This room was empty with clean hard wood floors and, since it was resting in a corner of the building, two of the walls exposed the room to the darkness of the pines that surrounded the house, and up above small pinpricks of light twinkled down beneath an empty sky. I hadn't seen stars in so long, but for once a clear night devoid of clouds had emerged and in the darkness of the Cullen home the stars seemed very bright.

The room was empty, or very nearly so. A grand piano, the kind that would do any concert pianist proud was shoved into a corner of the room, positioned in such a way that the player could gaze out the window if he chose to.

Edward led me to it and we settled on the small bench. I've never considered myself short, but somehow sitting beside Edward as he spread out his hands to rest gingerly on the keys, I felt very small as if my feet could barely touch the ground.

And as Edward's fingers slid over the keys, a noise entered the air. It flowed, almost like water sliding smoothly without any obstruction in its path. The notes twirled and danced with that steady rhythm running behind it. His fingers were moving swiftly, as the notes climbed and swirled but I couldn't watch the process, it seemed that the music itself was a live thing that moved tangibly in the air around us.

Maybe it was the long day, or maybe it was the music, maybe it really was a potent as I felt it to be; but the music seemed to carry with it a sort of power, and I listened to it move around us, flowing through us. My head grew heavy and as I rested it on Edward's hard cold shoulder I allowed myself the chance to truly rest. For the first time in a long time, in a very long life.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: One More Chance

* * *

Living with vampires isn't an experience that I can say I've had. Dying with vampires has always been a more apt description. And, as I've mentioned previously, at least dying around vampires is a fairly quick way to die.

Living with vampires however, posed some challenges.

"God, it stinks in here," Rosalie cried for the fourth time. She scrunched her nose at the smell of eggs that Esme was frying on the stove.

"I don't know babe," Emmett said flinging an arm around his wife and pulling her close. "Sort of reminds me of my own eating days. My Mom did a fry up every morning."

Esme chuckled as Rosalie continued to look disgusted, everyone could tell that the Cullen matriarch was thoroughly enjoying herself.

I felt awkward sitting at their kitchen table in my pajamas. But Alice had woken me excitedly this morning and dragged me downstairs before thoughts regarding my attire had yet to surface.

"It's very good," I assured Esme as she fluttered behind me. After a sharp glance from Rosalie I added, "But really you didn't have to go through all the trouble."

"Nonsense," Esme protested. "I've seen that cereal stuff that most people eat, it doesn't seem healthy."

I rather agreed with her so I decided to eat my breakfast in silence.

Alice had settled herself next to me and was smiling with an excitement I couldn't fathom.

"It's so nice to have you here," she said with a dreamy tone. "We can go shopping for your bed today, and I found a new store in Seattle that has the best clothes. And Esme has already gotten most of the other items you may need, but we can get some to suit you more…"

I sighed, "Really you don't-"

"Let me! Let me!" Alice moaned theatrically.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and huffed in a not-so-silent way.

I was starting to understand what Edward had meant, Alice was very hard to say no to.

"Did you wake her up?" Edward appeared suddenly and his eyes were such a light color of amber that I had little doubt what he had been up to this morning.

"I had to make sure she was alright," Alice argued.

"I told you she was."

I sat silently and ate more of my breakfast. I'd gathered that in the few hours I'd been sleeping quite a bit had happened. From what Alice had explained when she'd dragged me down for breakfast, she and the others had ventured into Canada for a day of hunting. Bears were starting to come out of hibernation and Emmett looked forward to this with great zeal. They'd planned on staying longer, considering that Alice's special weather predictions stated that today would be sunny as well. But then Alice had gotten a rather disturbing vision of me, a truck stop…and I hadn't really wanted to know what else she'd seen.

"You're different," she had mentioned, in as nice as way as she could. "It's hard to see what is going to happen to you until it's almost happening. Almost like I'm not getting all your input. I can see what that trucker wanted to do, what he was planning to do…but you weren't in focus."

I'd looked at the small ring burned around my wrist. We had learned the Delevi Ring from a group of Roma, gypsies, that practiced rituals so old that they themselves didn't know the reasons behind them. One of the twelve had been branded with it when he was a child growing up among them, but we quickly learned how useful it could be. The mark couldn't nullify a vampire's ability but Marius had learned that it did create interference. Although I was still at a loss to explain how it might effect Edward's mindreading ability to such a degree.

It had been a surprise that Alice had cut their trip short and dragged the others home. And her real honest concern had made it impossible for me not to warm up to the seer.

After their arrival, however, it seemed that some members of the household were a little…apprehensive, about having me in the house as a guest. I couldn't really blame them. Although it hadn't been said, I gathered that Rosalie and Jasper had been the main forces of contention- and they had lost their argument rather brutally. Jasper had remained silent, only watching me with nervous eyes. Rosalie had chosen to take her defeat with undisguised scorn toward any of my "human peculiarities".

Edward settled at the table beside me and he seemed to be accessing my condition, checking for any damage.

"I'm fine," I told him. "Better than actually, Esme really can cook."

I felt required to pay compliments on the food because Esme really did light up at any good word.

"Since she needs to eat, constantly," Rosalie added softly.

Edward shot his sister a glance and I pretended not to hear.

"I'm taking her shopping today," Alice stated in a challenging manner directing the conversation toward herself instead of the silent war that was still brewing between Edward and Rosalie.

"Why," Edward asked.

"You had her all last night," Alice argued, as I were a new toy or perhaps a family pet.

Carlisle, who had been reading the newspaper, seemed to have thought the same thing because a faint chuckle wandered out from behind hus newspaper.

Edward seemed to note this and the pause drew out.

"I'll come too," he stated instead.

Alice rolled her eyes, "Fine, you can be _one of the girls_."

Edward seemed to accept this dig to his masculinity with nary a blink.

"I'm not going," Rosalie argued.

Alice looked shocked, "But it's going to be cloudy in Seattle after noon," she argued.

"I don't have anything I need to buy," Rosalie said in a stilted tone.

Everyone, including myself, stopped and stared at the well groomed blonde beauty. Rosalie, not needing to go shopping?

And then Edward laughed. Rosalie turned beet red and stormed from the room, her fists curling at her side. The display didn't seem out of character at all, although Carlisle did raise one admonishing eyebrow in Edwards direction. Once again I was reminded of Edward's unique skill and my own interesting way of avoiding it. It was a skill that I imagined Rosalie would be covetous of, I caught Edward's eye curiously and he shook his head in amusement.

I managed to escape a day of shopping easier than I had anticipated. Of course my current freedom would be forfeited when Alice returned home. I'd been forced to give her carte blanche regarding her purchases as well as a _girl's night_ where in I expected to be forced to try on every item in my new ensemble. Somehow the idea of a slumber party was one of Alice's deepest desires. I wondered what else I'd be enduring this evening. I'd always known vampires were sadists, but I thought Alice took it a step further.

But that was how I'd managed to snag an afternoon listening to Edward play the piano.

He tended toward moody, thoughtful pieces, the sort fit for daydreaming. Debussy, _Rachmaninoff__,_Chopin. I'd settled on a small couch that had surprisingly appeared in his music room, my legs were tucked under my knees, my hands folded on the armrest and my eyes staring blindly into the nature that was evident through the wide windows.

Vampires can stay still for long periods of time, humans fidget. And while I wasn't still as a statue, I'd found that being with Edward made it easier for the inner me to be more apparent.

Humans move, they have an incessant need for momentum, maybe because every second, every moment, pieces of their body are aging, dying, changing. They must sense this constant progression, they must sense how short it can all be.

Make the most of this life, it's the only one you've got.

Someone said that once, and it made much of my existence come into perspective. Because, when there are so many lives yet to live, it sort of takes away the rush. The fluttering ticking of my little clock had stopped long ago, and I was happy to enjoy the long pieces of the present.

"Tell me a story," Edward said softly.

I smiled. It had become our game.

"A true one?" I asked, but the question wasn't serious.

"Tell me one from your first life," he asked instead.

I paused, uncertainly. "Is this your way of trying to find out how old I am?" I evaded.

"I want to know you," he persisted, his fingers still sliding seductively over the ivory keys as the music poured out.

"Okay," I took a breath and let my mind stumble over the memories at my disposal. "When I was a child my mother kept asps."

"The poisonous snakes?" Edward asked and he seemed slightly hesitant.

"Yes," I chuckled. "She had a pair of them. And she told me the story of Cleopatra, and of how Egypt was before the Romans. She said Cleopatra had chosen her own death over a life of imprisonment, and had killed herself with the bite of an asp. My mother loved that story, but I was always terrified of those snakes, they have cold eyes.

"Once I was in the garden and I came upon a wild one sunning itself. I froze, I was so terrified. But my mother found me, and I know you'll think I'm lying but she had a way with snakes. She was fluid and agile like they were, I remember when she carried me away-I thought I'd never known anyone more miraculous."

Edward's music carried on.

"She died when I was very young," I said softly. "Childbirth; she was trying for another girl."

Edward took in my story silently. I wondered what he thought of it, had he put together the clues already. I knew he was smart, but was he able to devise the story of my life that I didn't want him to know.

"Why Cleopatra," he asked curiously.

"She was related to my mother in some distant way," I said absently.

Edward chuckled, "We're a strange pair," he decided.

_You have no idea_, I thought sadly.

Playing dress up with Alice was rather painless, except for the mind numbing fatigue that threatened to consume me. Vampires don't need to sleep, a fact I was very easily reminded of when Alice decided to put on another movie somewhere around three in the morning. I felt as if my body was about to drop.

Thankfully we had run through the clothes Alice had purchased a few hours ago, and the vampire had really enjoyed her life-sized Barbie doll. Truthfully, not that I was in the mood to admit the truth, I had liked many of the things Alice had gotten for me. And I was trying, as Edward had suggested, to learn to accept Alice's abundance as gifts and not charity.

"How long are you planning to keep her up?" Edward asked from the doorway.

Alice frowned but her gaze turned to me and she smiled in that strangely fond way that I'd gotten used to. Edward had been right, it was odd to have an 'instant' best friend, as it were.

"Alright," she relented with a somewhat amused tone. She rose to her feet with a motion that seemed to belie any sense of transition; one moment she was sitting, then she was standing.

I rubbed my neck as my own body got to its feet more laboriously.

"Night, Bella," Alice said softly, "Let's have fun tomorrow too!"

Her exuberance was growing on me, or it must be because I couldn't help but smile. Maybe a part of me was hungry for a friend too.

Edward trailed behind me as we went to the room that had become mine. I'd grown strangely fond of my little library, or so I liked to think of it. A large bed, one that was ridiculously so, had been moved to into the small space. As well as a collection of clothes and other necessities that Alice and Esme had deemed necessary for my health and happiness. Edward had been no help in limiting their spree. He seemed to enjoy the way that they pampered me.

And Rosalie, oddly enough, had also contributed in her own way. She was a surprising person, beneath all the prickle, I had the feeling that she would like to join in. Except sometimes her eyes grew cold and her lips puckered unpleasantly, then she'd pull away again.

"It's been awhile since we've considered bedtimes," Edward muttered as I climbed into the sheets.

Tonight there would be no need for any additional human preparation. It had been part of the slumber party ritual that Alice and I be prepared for bed. Although I wondered if Alice would get dressed now, it wasn't as if she was going to sleep.

"Hmm," I smiled softly, looking around the shelves with tired eyes. I liked lying here and letting my eyes skim the titles. I'd read some, others I'd never even heard of.

"Hope Carlisle doesn't mind," I said twisting closer into my pillow.

"Carlisle?"

"I'm stealing his study I suppose," I said lifting my arm slightly and gesturing to the walls.

"His study is downstairs," Edward said sounding confused.

"Then this?" I tilted my head.

"My room," Edward said.

I blinked, "Yours." Somehow that concept hadn't entered my mind.

This was Edward's room. I looked around with new interest. Perhaps I should have guessed, music and books, some abstract paintings done in muted tones with shadowy figures. Even the walls were done in a light silvery blue that reminded me of him.

It was no wonder that I felt so at home here.

Edward settled against the bed, his back leaning on the running board and his face looking away from me. It was easy to become relaxed as such, my silent protector watching over me. I wished, silently, that he really could protect me from all the monsters in this world.

"Edward," I said with my mind twisting slowly.

"Yes," he answered his own voice solid and without the sleepy tinge of my own.

"I might not be able to stay much longer."

"They won't hurt you," Edward promised me with a steadiness that seemed to stretch on. Like some powerful promise.

"Not that," I muttered, rolling my eyes and pulling the blankets tighter around me. He would be concerned about his family, suddenly his silent vigil took on more meaning. "Mr. Winters won't keep me. I'll be sent back."

"You were just here till she died," he said softly, perhaps only realizing this for the first time.

"Yes," I answered.

It was silent for a time. I wondered what he was thinking, and he was likely wondering the same thing. My silent mind kept him at arms length, likely something he both hated and adored.

"It won't matter," he stated, a cold hand slipping between the blankets to hold mine gently.

His palm in mine registered weakly as my tired thoughts flittered across the space of my mind. And even though I heard his words, I couldn't help but doubt. Maybe it was the empty sounding caveat in his tone. Because Edward was no fool.

I watched him for a moment and his eyes looked blank. Did he know how fragile happiness could be? He'd grown apart from this world, and I'd been in it for too long

* * *

The weekend went too quickly, but also slowly. It was a juxtaposed collection of days where time didn't really matter. In a strange way it reminded me of being with the twelve, because time didn't mean much to us either. But being with Edward in his family was, as strange as it may seem, a kinder gentler sort of existence. The twelve were so often devoted to Marius's task, and the unending task of killing vampires had made them warped. They lied and manipulated, polished their killing skills-and it did little good to pretend that I wasn't among them, as much as I may want to.

But living with the Cullens wasn't about such a destructive fixation, time flowed smoothly as everyone focused on their own interests. It was even easy to forget about the world that existed outside their home and all the dangers that existed in it.

Alice would play with her various toys and then stare dreamlike into a future we couldn't envision. Rarely did she seem to see the need to share whatever fates she saw, although I had seen her move to a computer and fiddle around with the Cullen's stock portfolio from time to time.

Jasper had a fascination with history, and he'd settle with a book still as a statue. Few things roused him, Alice being one of them. He was always aware whenever she went into one of her visions and his attention would be utterly focused on her until she emerged from it. His unique ability to sense emotions allowed him insight into whether what she was seeing caused her concern or happiness. But his attention, regardless, was somewhat softening, despite his homicidal tendencies. Not that I hadn't lived with casual killers before.

Esme was always loosing herself in art, but then would flip from introspection to a hectic flurry of activity as she sketched out new plans for new homes. And she was really too kindhearted, news reports could bring her to tears. I wondered exactly how much of the Cullen fortune was spent on Esme's acts of kindness. I suppose I'd even stopped seeing her as a vampire because even with my new appreciation for their kind, I was left with her seeming to angelic to be real.

Rosalie's vanity was almost enduring as I observed how seriously she took it. She might have been born with a natural beauty, but she also had the skill of a surgeon when it came to dressing her form and meticulously applying the smallest trace of make-up to hide any illusionary imperfections.

And Carlisle, the father. He too was kind like his wife, but he was also driven in a manner that I couldn't help but find suspicious. What terrible sins was he so desperately trying to repent? And his faith, it defined him more than even medicine did. The Christian religion failed to strike a reverence with me, I'd known gods much older than theirs. But still I envied him that faith.

Emmett was the one that amazed me the most, in his own way. He was simple in his needs and wants, perhaps why he and Rosalie got along so well. And yet I found it fascinating how absorbed he still was by the life that moved around us. I'll admit that despite the humanity that clung to me, even I'd lost interest in repetitive human struggles. And yet Emmett seemed to see them all as new and fresh and fascinating. He was truly remarkable.

And then Edward…

* * *

Love is a selfish thing I was finding. As much as I enjoyed Alice's company, we'd been playing dress up for the past two hours now, somehow my time with her just wasn't as enjoyable the time spent with Edward. And I found I wanted some time with just him.

It was Sunday night, all homework had been finished early and Esme had made me another delicious dinner. She was hovering nearby watching me eat it while Rosalie did her nails at the table.

I had to admit, I felt more pretty than usual. Which is very hard to do when one is seated next to Fork's most esteemed blonde beauty. But Alice had seen fit to dress me for dinner this evening, she had chosen a knit dress made of the deepest blue. It wrapped around my waist in a comfortable way. I would always be more the jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, perhaps it was the faint memory of corsets that had me yearn for the casual…but this was nice at times too.

I found myself wishing Edward could see me like this. I'd never dressed special for him.

But it was foolish, of course. Humans didn't look very appealing physically to vampires, or so I'd been told very rudely once. Something about vampire sight being able to see each and every pore, we looked dimpled and plain compared to their marble magnificence.

I ate softly thinking about this.

Because I still would like Edward to see me like this, if only just this once, I thought I was a little pretty.

"Finally," Alice said under her breath as the door rattled open.

I turned, and there he stood. I struggled to swallow the food in my mouth. Perfect.

"Are you ready?" he asked softly.

"Ready?" I questioned.

He looked confused for a moment and his gaze drifted to Alice, and the confusion faded with a groan.

"You were supposed to tell her," he said, but not seeming terrible surprised at the smirk that his sister wore.

"It's not my job to ask her out on a date for you," she said with a little more bright humor than I might have expected.

"What?" I asked.

Edward paused, then turned with a slight shift to his body.

"Bella, would you perhaps consent to spending…would you like to…" He seemed to be struggling for the words. He frowned and looked at me intently, in the annoyed way his expression sometimes took when he couldn't read my mind.

"If I asked you to go out with me…on a date…"

I cringed slightly at the word 'date' and he picked up on it.

"Would you say yes," he finished rather lamely.

I looked at the women who were gathered in the room watching me intently, Alice and Esme were brimming with excitement and amusement, Rosalie looked like she wished vampires could vomit.

"Sure," I said feeling rather strange about it myself.

"Ok…um, is now ok?"

I looked down at the dress that Alice had strategically dressed me in, and nodded.

We were whisked out the dining room by Alice and Esme's excitement, and the feelings of anticipation that such an event might rise in me were diminished by the trifle awkwardness that had arose of the situation. I found myself casting furtive glances at Edward as he opened the door to an expensive looking automobile, but perhaps he felt it too since he seemed reluctant to meet my eye.

We drove in silence for a bit.

"Date much?" I finally said, my voice sounding odd.

Edward flickered an unreadable emotion, "No."

"You must have dated some, when you were…younger." And human, I added silently.

He cast me an amused glance. "No, you didn't date as casually as they do today, not in my family anyway. My mother was…" he struggled to find the words, but perhaps his memories failed him because he merely shrugged.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Dates?" I said and my mood must have shown through in one word.

"You don't like them?" he asked honestly curious.

"I never saw the point," I replied.

"Why?" he asked, he wasn't paying any attention to the road anymore even though the speeds were climbing radically.

"They seemed silly," I said not wanting to explain myself anymore than that.

"Oh," he said, that faint annoyance leaking into his tone.

"We don't have to go on one," I argued suddenly, "I don't mind, we don't have to pretend."

"Pretend?" he questioned.

"We're not normal," I said with a sigh.

"I love you though," he said simply.

I paused, for a moment and let the words sink in. "I know" I said softly.

"This is what people in love do," he replied, "They go out, they show each other what they like."

My curiosity was piqued. "Where are we going?" I asked.

Edward smiled in a soft unrevealing way. "You'll see."

Break

I hadn't realized we had driven so far in such a short time, but then with Edward's passion for speed it seemed like we had only been driving for a short while before I realized we were driving into a town, Bremerton a sign read. In the distance a glow of large buildings towered, lighting up the sky and making the stars fade away. And brighter still, sticking out like glowing tendrils the docks reached out. A navel yard was here, or so I thought I remembered. But that was some distance ahead, and instead tall trees still hung heavily in the night sky as we drove through an older part of the city, the inland land that hadn't yet been built upon.

The car stopped and parked on a side street of a small neighborhood, falling into place with others who were similarly lined up. It seemed an odd place for a crowd, and I couldn't help but wonder what Edward wanted to show me.

The building that we walked towards was old, perhaps the oldest structure in the surroundings, it was made of roughly hewn stone and some brick. But the windows were what caught my eye and made me remember other places. The colored glass was rich and detailed, and the soft light from inside made them glow like lanterns on the darkened street.

It was a church.

I glanced up at Edward in confusion.

His cold hand rested in mine, and it was comfortable now, not alarming. Even his scent, which at times had brought on pangs of fear, seemed soft and pleasant now. I had grown comfortable with this vampire.

We opened the doors discreetly, but I felt like a trespasser as I entered. I had never prayed to the Christian god, though I admired the philosophy that had been created. I had been brought up believing in older things.

But Edward seemed to share my unease, and his hand tightened in mine. Perhaps we both felt like blasphemers here.

But then the music started, rising like a lone voice and soaring with a tone and strength that no human could possess. The sound carried upward into arching ceiling, brushing along the paintings and coming back to consume me again. It was a lonely, lovely sound and my eyes were drawn to it's source, a old man who stood rigidly straight on the dais. His shockingly white hair stood out brightly in the dimly lit chapel.

The clarinet is such a sorrowful instrument, filled with a rich sound, it can be happy and light but somehow it drags at my soul.

And it was Chopin, of course it was.

We sat together, toward the rear of the church and as time passed my head rested gently on Edward's shoulder. It was hard, stone-like even, but his corduroy jacket was soft against my cheek.

Edward's gaze remained rather fixed on the old man who played. The musician seemed unaware, even uninterested in his surroundings as the music he created poured around us. I relaxed and I let my eyes wander around me, my gaze resting on the different people who shared this night with us.

They were a strange collection of people, some older, some younger, some devout, some simple music lovers. The music styles changes, a few popular songs even. I exchanged glances with Edward, wondering if perhaps he remembered when they had come out, his amber gaze met mine and the weak smile we shared made me feel connected.

I found myself feeling a strange urge, the type in my long life I'd never felt before. The heat of it ran up my spine and centered itself in my abdomen, taking with a it a slight tremor and thrill. I felt myself reach out, as though the impulse was directing me and not my mind, my hand rested on Edwards shoulder and drifted up toward his face. My finger brushed his jaw line, it trailed up his lips.

I could feel him freeze beneath my touch, his body tightly wound like a spring. He looked at he sideways through slited eyes.

I found myself wanting to be with Edward, wanting things I hadn't wanted before. I was hardly totally innocent, but I'd never before felt a thrill of passion.

It moved me.

The drive back to Edward's home in the dark was somehow sensual. Or maybe it was the way that as we drove through the dark roads, my hand drifted over Edward and how he, ever so nervously, allowed his hands to move over me.

It was very innocent, a slight brush of finger tips, a smooth pressure of fingers sliding along a thigh, his hand brushing my shoulder collarbone and sliding slightly lower to stop at the slight swell of my breast, my hand drifting down his chest. I longed do more, and sensed Edward did too. But this was enough, this sweet exploration, our fingers toying and testing.

The drive home was all too short.

When we reached his home I felt us both try to reign back in the rush of energy and excitement that still coursed through our veins. He kept his hands on the wheel, mine were neatly folded in my lap. But our eyes met and the same energy we'd been keeping tame crackled between us. He moved, I moved and our lips seemed to meet in a crushing, hungry kiss. His hands moved so speedily to my waist, his grip nearly too tight.

He stopped.

I stopped.

We both sat, our breath coming is soft short gasps.

"I'll be along shortly," Edward said quietly, his amber eyes meeting mind.

I nodded and stood up, exiting the car with a hurried pace, almost as if I were escaping something. I took my own soothing breath before I entered the Cullen home, trying to shake the feelings form this evening. However when I opened the door Jasper and Alice stood poised on the steps, a knowing smile on their lips.

"I…I -" there was nothing to say. "Edward is still in the car," I finally muttered before escaping them and running up the stairs.

Their soft laughter followed me up the stairs, and my face colored in the deepest red embarrassment. It was late, or later than I might normally stay up on a Sunday night. I quickly got ready for bed and tucked myself between the sheets, pulling one of the books off Edward's wall to read. I sat like that, curled in bed, reading the same sentence over and over again, because for some reason I couldn't let go of this happiness. It kept me warm and slowly, I felt myself slip into a warm and welcome tiredness. I turned the light off and closed my eyes.

Just as I was starting to drift into slumber, I heard the door open and a quiet sound next to my bed alerted me that my silent protector had returned. I was so close to sleep, but still my hand drifted to the edge of the bed and I felt myself fully and truly relax as a cold hand took hold of mine.

* * *

Going to school had never seemed stranger than that Monday after spending a weekend at the Cullen home. If you had asked me only the previous Friday if such a thing might have been possible, I'd have said 'no' with the resolution of centuries. But here I was emerging not only alive, but also well rested and fed.

It was hard not to be in a good mood, and so I was smiling slightly when Edward and I walked up to the school side by side. The parking lot was in its usual state of disorder, cars moving haphazardly. Really it seemed quite dangerous considering the chill of the morning had left ice lingering on the blacktop.

Maybe my focus on the possible danger was what alerted me to the honk of a horn, something I might have otherwise ignored.

I turned my head, peering past Edward's shoulder, meeting a sight I hadn't expected.

Mr. Winter's old truck was parked near the curb, his face peering through the crowd of students and meeting my own eyes. I don't recall if I'd ever really looked the man in the eye before. We'd shared meals and even a few stunted conversations but his gaze had never really caught my own.

"Edward," I said softly.

Maybe it was my tone, but Edward stopped dead and his spine stiffened in an almost predatory manner.

"Mr. Winters," I explained, gesturing toward the old pick up truck.

He turned and could likely see the man better than me, "It's okay," Edward said steadily.

I began to move away from his side but Edward fell into step behind me, and I was oddly comforted by his presence. It was strange for me that I was worried about all this. What did it really matter if Mr. Winters sent me back?

But I knew why it mattered. Because being in Forks, living here like a normal teenager, had brought me to meet Edward and his family. And I'd gone passed pretending to fit in, to actually feeling as if I did. I had liked my life here, taking care of the Winters, trading stories with Edward, even playing dress up with Alice and chatting casually with Jessica and Mike. It had been this wonderful sort of dream, and I hadn't wanted to wake up yet.

I stood awkwardly beside the driver's door.

"Didn't know where to get you," Mr. Winters muttered. He wasn't meeting my gaze and I thought he still looked a little pale and thin. His clothes looked formal, or at least more so than I had ever seen them: a crisp white shirt, a worn navy blazer, clean, dark denim jeans.

"Funeral today," he said softly.

"Oh," I answered. Mrs. Winters hadn't exactly left my thoughts, but I had no turmoil to attach her to my memories. She was resting now, and wherever the soul went after the end of this life, hers was there now.

"Didn't know if you wanted to…" He trailed off awkwardly.

The silence hung between us, and he didn't seem to want to press my answer.

"My sister wants me to stay with her," he mentioned after the time had dragged. But there was a doubtful quality to his tone.

I looked up and for a moment I caught his gaze. Mr. Winters looked away quickly, but I'd seen his eyes. They were red rimmed and glassy, but a very sharp shade of blue. He stared down at the steering wheel.

"Don't know if you want to, don't know if they'd let you, but if you wanted to, you couldcome back." His words were muttered weakly. There was a disturbing lack of passion it was even difficult to determine what sort of answer he'd rather hear, or if I was even understanding the question accurately.

"What time in the funeral," I asked instead, staring down at the door of his pickup.

"Ten," he said looking at his clock.

I nodded.

"I won't be home for dinner tonight," he said. He stared ahead, "But by tomorrow. You still have the key?"

I nodded dumbly.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickered in my direction briefly. But without any additional words he shifted gears and drove away. I was left standing on the pavement watching the old truck leave and wondering what this meant. But as the shards of our conversation fell into order, I was left feeling the warm glow of relief.

"He actually wants you to stay," Edward assured me. His curious gaze following the truck as it turned away. "You cook better than his sister."

I smiled. Nothing in this life is forever, but Mr. Winters had granted my happiness a reprieve.

I was earning another bad reputation in school. Maybe Edward was too, but then no one ever seemed to mind when the Cullen kids were absent. I'd skipped last Friday for obvious reasons, and this Monday was occupied with watching a very familiar scene.

The weather had gone back to being cold and rainy, and spare drops fell from the sky in a half hearted manner. I looked out through the branches of a tree, glad the rain was largely blocked by the thick branches, no foliage yet of course but the old branches acted as a sort of umbrella.

"What are they saying," I asked Edward. He was standing behind me so closely I need only take a half step back to be pressed into his chest. A part of me wanted to do that, perhaps some human desire to seek out warmth on his cold blustery day. But I stayed where I was.

"They are talking about her life," Edward said softly. "Are you sure you don't want to…"

"I've been to too many of these," I said softly. "But she was nice to me."

I felt a cold hand on my shoulder.

"We don't spend much time being close to humans," he said softly.

"Easier," I said simply.

"Yes," Edward answered, "And we don't want to hurt anyone."

That was constantly on his mind I noted, that he was going to hurt me, or if not him than one of his family. I wished there was a way to tell him that such a thing was impossible. But it was true enough.

Still…

I took Edward's hand in my own, his larger palm didn't hold neatly into mine and instead I wrapped my fingers around four fingers and held tightly. I strummed my thumb along his palm, sliding it along the smooth texture.

"This doesn't matter Edward," I said softly. "This body." I lifted our clasped hands to rest on my collarbone. "It's only the envelope, it's the letter that's important."

His cold hand came alive, his fingers brushed my skin with the softness of a feather.

But he pulled away, as he always did and I didn't want to see his face.

"But saying something like that, about envelopes and letters, it won't make much difference to them." I gestured to the people at the graveside and once again Mr. Winter's distant profile caught my gaze. He was turned away from me, and I couldn't see his face. But his shoulders looked slightly hunched as if he were struggling to stay warm in the cold day. But it wasn't the temperature that was keeping him looking so broken.

"Let's go back to school," I said turning around. I briefly glanced at Edward and his expression was closed off.

I had a feeling that my words about envelopes and letters were jarring for him.

"Alright," he said.

Something was bothering Edward, I knew this in an absent way. I also knew that no matter what I said or did, the problem wouldn't be fixed. This was something that Edward would have to sort out on his own. So as he drove me back to school I absorbed the silence in the car with only the slightest unease.

"I think I'll go to the Winter's house tonight, get it ready," I said as we got to school.

Edward hesitated noticeably, his gaze dropping and trailing along the ground. "You don't have to," he said softly.

He was rather unreadable at times.

"I'll give you some time, all of you. None of you have gone hunting all weekend. But, Edward, thank you." I wanted to touch him, run my hands across his face and rest my head on his shoulder. But I didn't know if he wanted that right now, so let my eyes linger on his face.

He stayed silent at that, and I guessed that I had been right. Mrs. Winters death might have effected Edward even more than it had me. He was reminded, almost painfully of how human I was and what exactly that meant. Even if my soul had more leeway than most, who could guess how things might change.

Edward offered to give me a lift home after school, but I'd watched his family's faces and, with the exception of Alice, they all seemed eager to be on their way. We'd managed to make it back to the school in time for lunch and, to Edward's displeasure, I'd been gifted to hearing about how they all intended to resume the grizzly hunting trip that my truck stop fiasco had cut short. Emmett had been particularly vivid in the details of how exactly one subdued an enraged bear. The ideal location for this adventure was in the Canadian Rockies, and they hoped to get in some hunting before it grew dark.

I didn't mind and nudged Edward with a smile. I had a feeling it had been some time since he had wetted his appetite for the more adventurous fare, and had likely been lasting on the local deer population.

"You'll be careful," he asked, running a cold thumb against my and gently.

"No truck stops, no walking by the side of the road, I'll just do my homework on the bus and be safely at home," I promised feeling somewhat foolish.

"Don't go into the woods," he added.

I sighed, "Edward, I'm not…"

He interrupted me quickly, "Forgive my caution," he said softly. "It's been a long time since I've considered how fragile…" the trailed off weakly.

"But I'm not," I said.

Our eyes met and he fingers ghosted across my cheek, "Yes, you are."

"I'm choosing to see this as cute and caring, instead of scarily overprotective," I warned him. "And, hey, whatever happened to me not being as fragile as most human, remember," I glanced around, "I'm not exactly normal either.

He stared into nothing for a moment, and I wanted to toss his line back to him, because I really wanted to know what he was thinking. But the silence dragged on, and the somber weight in his eyes left me numb to asking questions that maybe, maybe I didn't want answered.

"We'll be back later tomorrow, it's going to be sunny. But…I'll see you."

"Okay," I nodded.

He paused to look at me for a moment and I rolled my eyes and gestured for him to rejoin his family.

Emmet seemed to see the gesture and smiled, "Come on brother, she's sick of you. Time for some _hiking,_ alright." He shouted across the parking lot and few heads turned. Rosalie seemed to be hiding a smile.

I boarded the bus, allowing my eyes to follow the silver Volvo, and did my best smile cheerfully as its driver scanned the windows for my face. I wasn't sick of Edward Cullen, as broken and confusing as he could be, not even close.

It was odd how mess seemed to accumulate even when no one was there to make it. I could have sworn that I had done the dishes that night before Mrs. Winters had died, and yet a fair amount seemed to have accumulated in the sink during my absence. Maybe dirty dishes spawned when we turned out backs.

Still, there was something soothing about my hands in the warm water, the sounds of the tap flowing and the faint scent of soap. It had been pleasant for a few days to have Esme take care of me, to be bundled into the protectiveness of the Cullen family. But I had lived for much longer in a different role.

I hadn't lied when I told Esme what my ability came in the form of taking care of people. I didn't have many other skills, but in this one I had grown oddly dependent on.

"Hullo."

The voice sent a chill down my spine. It was a beautiful voice, a young girl who sounded like a slightly annoyed angel.

I swallowed and did my best to remain calm, setting the dish I had been washing on the sink and turning with a steady step. My teeth worried my lip nervously though, and I couldn't seem to stop this nervous habit.

Jane, a monster from my past, stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her pale brown hair pulled back from her face in a style that had long gone out of fashion. Her face was relatively expressionless, almost like a doll, but her dark red eyes flickered with tinges of emotion. And she was annoyed.

"Nice to see you again," I lied. But politeness isn't dead, even if she was.

"I don't know why he sent me to get you," she complained like an annoyed child might.

"I'm surprised you could find me," I mentioned.

She flashed some anger and tossed her head back.

"Aro owed Marcus a favor," Jane intoned before turning her dark gaze on me."So we have a flight to Italy, you're not going to pack anything are you?" She looked at me letting me know what wastefulness that seemed to her.

I eyed the bag of my belongings that still hung by the door, my luggage from my brief stay at the Cullen home. The silly little cat statue was also still inside. A few items from Alice. It struck me then that Edward had never given me anything, only his love and my life. But it was better that way.

"No," I said with a weak shrug. I wouldn't need them anymore.

Jane smiled at her perceived notion regarding my docile obedience. She always enjoyed lording her power over me. I was older than her, in a manner of speaking, but I'd seen her growing power when she had been a newly turned vampire. I'd never felt it, none of the Volturi had laid a hand on me, (figuratively or literally) but I knew she liked to drive people mad with the pain she could inflict.

Suddenly a fear gripped me, one that I'd never known.

Alice mustn't see this, she mustn't send anyone to rescue me this time. Edward must not see this because, while Jane might not be allowed to injure me, the Cullen family was another story. Jane might look like a little girl, with her china doll features, but she was a ruthless killer whose age challenged all except Carlisle. And she would enjoy fighting them, if it came to that. And she would destroy them while I watched. I could accept my own loss in this, it was part of the game I'd chosen to play, but I wouldn't sacrifice the Cullens.

"We should leave now," I urged.

"What's the rush?" she asked, suddenly looking curious.

"Why put off the inevitable," I answered steadily, my tone sounding desolate even to my ears. But I hadn't given up hope. I knew Alice's ability concerning me was somewhat fuzzy, I could only hope that by shifting the future rapidly perhaps she wouldn't be able to see and tell Edward.

For a moment, Jane's expression seemed to soften, if even only ever so slightly. "It's all rather pointless isn't it," she said with no trace of emotion. "Well, let's go then."

The car waiting outside was immaculate, shiny and bright red. Jane, who looked like she might barely qualify for a learners permit, climbed behind the wheel looking bored. I slid in beside her, the smell of leather did nothing to quiet the rolling in my stomach. We needed to leave, now, before the Cullens could come for me. Before Alice could see whatever it was that she saw when it came to me.

I tried not to watch the trees as we drove away, I didn't turn around to glance back at the Winter's home, I didn't even let my eyes drift toward the direction of the high school as we passed through town. I let the town of Forks fall away like some sort of dream and stared ahead steadily.

"Why do you enjoy this game, the both of you?" Jane asked as she stared ahead.

"I don't," I said.

She scoffed, "It's the only thing that interests him anymore," she said her gaze drifting to me, "And you make it so easy."

"When life is brief," I said softly, "You make plans for the time you have, but when life is long you take the moments you can get and you accept the consequences that may come."

She sneered, her cold lips showing a hint of white teeth.

"You wouldn't understand," I said staring into the woods and greenery.

"I'm immortal," she growled, stepping harder onto the gas as we raced across the pavement.

I decided not to argue anymore. Maybe someday Jane would understand, but I doubted it. She might be immortal but in my mind she was still very young. She had spent all of her timelessness among Aro's collection. Time moved differently among the Volturi, it was almost as if time didn't move at all. It was like how life could be when the twelve were together, we were immune to the flow of time.

She drove us to a small airport close to Forks, it was the sort of airfield that only saw small single-engine planes. It was home to the search and rescue planes and helicopters that were used when tourists went missing in the woods. Except today the small field was also home to a shiny silver plane that looked beautiful and still somewhat fragile.

We climbed aboard and a very human looking pilot seemed to nod at Jane in a subservient manner. That had been an aspect of the Volturi that always left a bad taste in my mouth. They would easily take on human servants when needed, poor fools who had some dream of immortality, but they would only ever be dreams as their lives were discarded as casually as fast-food napkins.

"Casa, Benito," Jane said her Italian flowing smoothly.

The pilot nodded, "Si, signorina."

Jane retreated into a seat as the plane began its preparations for departure. Benito, the pilot, had obviously been told to keep ready as it took only a short amount of time for the plane to be prepared to take to the air. I couldn't help but be grateful, I'd been lucky enough already that Alice's antennae hadn't picked up any of this.

I was happy that Edward wasn't coming. I was happy that he wouldn't be caught in this. I was happy I wouldn't have to see his face while I left. I was happy that he didn't know I was going to certain death.

I knew all this, and yet a part of me I refused to acknowledge, ached to feel his arms wrapped around me one more time. If I had known that our last moment together would have been the last I might have treasured it a little more. But I'd been foolish once again and forgotten how breakable all this could be. It had been so long since I'd treasured anything, how easily you forgot.

Edward had been right when he'd said what we had was fragile. Because even if my soul wasn't, this chance we had was. How many years would it be before I would be able to find him again, how long would I spend alone knowing exactly how lonely I was. Or would I be scooped back into Marius's crusade.

I didn't cry, I wouldn't. This was my life, and I had made my choice. I'd lived it.

As we took to the air I scanned the green below me. I closed my eyes and wished as I never allowed myself to do. Let me have another chance, I asked, another chance to see Edward and know him. After my many lifetimes I'd never once prayed for another. How often had I wished that this would be the last, that all this would end and I'd finally reach the conclusion of this long life. But just this once I did.

Give me another chance.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Together Again

Italy is a crowded country, but it's also a beautiful one. I can understand why so many people would choose to live on one peninsula. And it has nothing to do with the pasta. In the cities there is a cool confidence, beautiful and sophisticated like the tall lean, dark woman of Milan; those cities and people always structured as if they were stunning architecture. And in the countryside these hills that rise and fall into orchards. Trees of olives and grape vines, and filled with this vitality and life.

I'm not Italian, but I've been born there.

Italy, like other parts of the old world, always makes me feel nostalgic. So many old sights still remain, changed perhaps, but not completely erased. In other parts of the world you can't always see the past, it's gone in a lifetime. Rome, well it's alive like any city, but somehow I can still find my way around in it. It manages to remind me of my father's stories about his home.

My father was a Roman, he grew up in chariots on these streets back when they were stone. Back when the gladiators still fought in the coliseum and the emperor was a man and not a part of history. He was a noblemen soldier, a second son who had gone to Egypt to watch over one of the most foreign parts of the empire. And he'd made the wise choice to fall in love with a daughter of Egypt. He found wealth and power in Egypt but due to unhappy circumstances, he was forced to visit Rome, only in his memories.

But my brothers and I would listen to his stories, of the world and culture he had grown up in. He wasn't a tender man, but he waxed nostalgic and my mother had no interest on his recollections.

Volterra, a town I didn't hold fond memories for, was only a short drive from Rome. It was an inconsequential little town, excepting for a 'vampire' festival that drew tourists. That was still several months away so people wandering the city at the moment were the locals who knew better than to stare at the expensive silver car that sped through the town. The vampires of the Volturi knew not to feed on any of the town's citizens, but there were still whispers in the town.

How could there not be?

The silver car entered through what appeared to be a private parking garage, Jane used a keycard to raise a heavy gate, but instead of driving upward, Jane speed away from the light and into the darkness below. We spiraled downward for a time before Jane came to a stop. A row of expensive dream cars were lined up neatly and Jane slid into a spot smoothly.

She stepped out the car gracefully and I followed trying not to look too human. The charade was over, it had been a lovely innocent little game. But there was no use pretending to be normal now. Still I couldn't help but feel more than ever like some teenage girl, shivering as I walked through the cold cement garage and into the dark tunnel that awaited me.

"You've done some remodeling," I said trying to sound blasé or perhaps even brave.

Jane peered at me over her shoulder as we walked in the gloom, "Well, it's been almost a century," she commented loftily. "They didn't even have proper automobiles then, more like slugs."

I nodded.

My visits to Volterra tended to blur together. The bloodiest, which had resulted in the formation the Vampire festival, had been not long after Dydium had died. I had not known her well, but I'd heard mention of her and a part of me had dared to hope that the insane family melodrama that had consumed our lives for centuries would fade.

But I'd been a fool. Dydium's unique ability to incite happiness in those around her had only granted us a short reprieve. Her death had sparked a tidal wave, and the inevitable battle that had ensued would have been epic, if it hadn't happened so many times before. Still the violence had made the existence of vampires evident to the human residents of the small town, but luckily St Marcus had come to rescue them from the terrible fiends and the town still celebrated his heroics to this day.

"You don't look much different," Jane commented. She had been peering at me. "At first you I didn't recognize you. The hair, and skin. But you smell the same, and the way you act."

"I am the same," I said to her tiredly. The vampires never knew what to make of the twelve. We shifted and changed, unlike them, and yet our minds and personalities were just as timeless as their own. The hostility between us was difficult to define. They didn't fear us, nor we them, and the risk to each other was negligible.

Jane shrugged and I continued to follow her soft steps.

Entering the stronghold of the Volturi is somewhat like entering a high court. The walls tower upward and were craved inward like a relief to create the illusion of arching columns and ornate decorations. It was also timeless, no hint of fragility in the architecture. This was an underground fortress meant to endure forever.

And it would have to, if it were last as long as its residents would.

A few vampires, their red eyes sharply alert, watched as Jane lead me through the arching entrance into the less formal apartments where the more senior members resided. I shivered in the cold. The space was unheated and buried at least a mile underground, the temperature plummeted. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to use friction to warm them.

"Ah, Jane," a smooth voice interrupted our steps.

Jane stopped and stood perfectly still, then her body, without any shift in posture, turned to face the other direction.

"Aro," she said reverently, bowing her head and closing her eyes.

I turned, coming from a doorway was one of the oldest vampires in the world. Not the oldest, of course, but arguably one of the most powerful. Aro, always had a odd sort of fascination with the twelve, Marius and me in particular.

"Aro," I said softly. I didn't like the ways his eyes lingered on me, the way his lips opened and tongue jetted out slightly. He smiled in predatory way and I shivered, but not because of the chill.

"My dear, how good to see you again," he said softly, stepping forward. "Jane, Alec is looking for you. I can see that Banafrit gets to her destination."

Jane nodded and I didn't even bother to look to her for some assistance, I kept my gaze on Aro.

"It's Bella, it was last time as well."

I tried not to think about the last time.

Aro's lip curled, "Yes, I remember. But your little made up name is so very simple, not worthy of such a fascinating history. Your proper name…it reminds me of other times."

I didn't know much about Aro and his past, but I could sense that he and Marcus were of a similar time, indeed that the three leaders of Volturi were like brothers, all stemming from the same age. But I didn't know of his life.

I didn't really care.

But, Aro liked to know things, his ability to see into anyone's history made him immune to the idea of privacy. I did know that Aro liked things that were unique. That was something that I knew well. And he was currently examining me with some sort of dark fascination.

"I'd love to know what you've seen," he said, reaching out a cold white hand.

I drew back slightly, "You're not…" I trailed off unsure of what to say.

It was forbidden, and had been for as long as I had known the other members of the Volturi. Marcus was a tolerant vampire, or so I was told. I had never quite seen this side of him; because where matters of his family were concerned Marcus had no control. He was covetous and cruel when it came to Marius and me.

I looked at Aro's flawless hand, it still shone in the distance between us looking perfect. It was hard to believe the violence that had been done to it once.

Aro caught my gaze, and instead smiled. "He's not quite so lively these days."

He moved closer and I swallowed but felt revulsion crawling over my skin.

But he paused, the space of an inch before my flesh. Perhaps he was remembered as well. Once, many, many years ago, Aro had let his curiosity get the better of him and had tried to place just one innocent hand to my skin. Curiosity and vampires.

Marcus had latched onto his wrist before his prying mind could latch onto mine. I'd gasped in shock as the grip shattered the vampire's hand like it was made of glass. His flesh has danced across the floor, scattering in all directions.

That had all been some time ago, but I knew that his memories were as enduring as mine. I looked at Aro's hand, and he seemed to examining it as well. For a moment the old vampire seemed to settle his gaze in my eyes.

"You really are beautiful Banafrit, well, as far as being human is concerned."

Then his hand jerked out moving like a striking serpent, but the cold fingers that encircled my wrist held it gently but firmly.

I closed my eyes, disgust trailed like worms moving over my skin, and tried not to feel violated as I knew his mind was scouring my entire life. I hated for him to be able to see the long string of my lives, hated for him to know my darkest secrets; Hated for him to know my pathetic role in our private tragedy.

But his cold hands remained holding mine tightly. He shook my arm slightly and I opened my eyes in shock. His burgundy gaze was locked on me, his face looking surprised but still filled with a greedy sort of desire.

"What…how do you…?" he trailed off with an excited smile.

"Aro," A quiet voice growled.

Both of us turned and in the shadows there was a face I knew all too well.

The twelve, our faces changed, but somehow his had remained just as it had ever been. The shoulder length black hair he'd inherited from our mother, the strong jaw of our father, only the red eyes that I had become familiar with were something entirely of his own. Marcus, the origin of this all.

"Marcus," Aro said gently, "I was merely…"

I blinked and Marcus was clasping his fingers tightly around Aro's throat, he forced his fellow Volturi back into the wall and the hard solid stone fractured under the pressure as the two old vampires grappled silently.

I knew their strength was about even, but Marcus's eyes were burning with a brighter glow and his face was locked in a mask of fury.

"I told you, never her," he stated pounding Aro back into the rock with every syllable, creating a hard thud that sounded like the noise a wrecking ball makes.

"My mistake, old friend," Aro managed to say, his voice unimpeded by the hand wrapped around his throat.

Marcus dropped him, and Aro merely straightened his robes with a brushing of his hand. "You know how weak I am to temptation, I wasn't certain you'd mind anymore…and it didn't matter much."

Marcus roared and flung himself at Aro again, but this time the third member of the Volturi had emerged, Caias had dropped out of nowhere and placed a hand between the two.

"I like a good fight," he said with some eagerness, his eyes flickering between the two excitedly, "But here isn't the place." Caius, with his blonde hair and white face, looked almost bright in the gloom. He gestured over his shoulder carefully and the others must have seen something that I couldn't.

Marcus shouted something quickly in Italian, too fast for me to interpret. But whatever he said must have dissuaded whatever onlookers we had acquired, a soft almost silent sound of footsteps existed for a moment and then was gone.

Aro opened a massive door to the left, like those that had been popular during the middle ages. Normally such doors took four men to open, by Aro moved it as if it weighed nothing at all. He gestured inside with a polite almost amused smile.

A cold hand on my arm sent another shiver throughout my form, and I knew Marcus was behind me ushering me inside. I didn't have to turn around to know he was, in his own way, guarding me from Aro and Caius.

The twelve had endured many disagreements with the Volturi, and many of them had, at one time or other, met their end by either the guard or even the other two leaders. But only one of its number had ever ended my life.

Again and again.

I felt so very tired, I thought, as I was shepherded into a smaller stone room. I barely noticed when the heavy door was closed behind us, shutting out any sound from their underground fortress. I wanted to close my eyes and sleep, and not have to endure this all once again. I wanted to turn off my brain of what was about to fallow. For all my distaste of suicide, if I'd had a gun I'd have pulled the trigger right there.

"Tut tut tut," Aro said in a mocking manner.

The pressure holding my arm had grown, and I turned to see Marcus's eyes looking like an empty black pit. He was smelling the air, tasting it like it contained some delicious sent. And his grip grew tighter as he pulled me closer.

"Goodness, can't even last a few minutes anymore," Aro commented in the same mocking tone. "Really doesn't say much about the power of our species as it ages."

"Who needs self control when you know she tastes so good," Caius commented. He seemed to lick his own lips as he watched Marcus.

"True, a singer is a rare gift. And Marcus is lucky enough to have the pleasure repeat again and again."

I hated how they spoke about this, like it was just a game for their amusement. The pain in my arms as he held me tighter and tighter continued to grow, at least this wouldn'

"Still," Caius said with a sigh, "You know he's going to be unbearable for the next few years, he's impossible afterward."

"Well, by the looks of things maybe he's decided to do away with that silly guilt nonsense, certainly isn't stopping him now."

I wondered how long it would take for my bones to break. He could snap them like toothpicks if he wanted to, and I knew that he didn't want to. But he couldn't stop, never could.

And what I hated more than Aro and Caius, what I hated even more than Marcus and this stupid repeating drama, what I hated even more than dying-it was the voice in my head. The voice that said just let it end. Let it be quick. Let him drink me dry, don't let's make this more than it has to be.

Maybe I could have another chance at things, I had a reason to want one now. Why couldn't this failed attempt just end.

"Urghhh," Marcus growled.

So suddenly I couldn't prepare myself, he tossed me away and I skidded across the stone floor, falling hard on my knees and palms. I lay there for a moment catching my breath before I drew my aching arms to my chest to try and sooth some of the pain.

Marcus was pacing, his hands running through his usually perfectly contained hair and throwing it about wildly. Somehow he looked more like his human self this way, although I didn't know why since in his life he had always been perfectly contained and controlled. The only thing that had ever flustered him had been Marius.

Aro and Caius snickered across the room.

"Get out," Marcus said, his cold eyes turning to Aro and Caius.

"Sorry, sorry, old friend, but it's good to see you so- vigorous," Aro said. He turned to Caius with a small smile.

"It certain has been a very quiet century," the blonde vampire stated.

"What is there worth saying," Marcus said with a low voice, he crossed the room to be as far away from me as possible. "It's always the same. Every day and year, nothing changes. The humanity rots away at our feet still fighting the same struggles, making the same connections, losing the same loses."

"Yes we know," Aro said rolling his eyes in a dramatic fashion. "It's all very tiresome, but that is no reason to become a social recluse."

"Something's got you sparked now," Caius commented.

The room was silent for a moment, but the Volturi were comfortable with silence. Time didn't mean much to them, I among the twelve had spent the most time with them and knew that could sit for days not moving or speaking. My breath seemed to be the only noise in the place, and I tried to keep it calm and composed.

I tried not to think of Edward, or remember how carefully he treated me. I tried not to think of how he'd feel when he found out I'd been killed brutally, once again. I lied to myself and said it was better this way. Surely Edward couldn't contain his thirst forever, and I didn't want the guilt of killing me on his conscious. But even the lies seemed hollow and I stared at the marble tile floor, tracing the lines with my eyes.

"Something's different," Marcus said. His voice echoing across the empty room.

"I like it when they're here, always good bloodshed," Caius whispered with a smile.

"Not them," Marcus said. He turned to face me with a confused expression, his eyes digging into me. "You've changed, Bella."

I closed my eyes as he said my new name. It sounded foreign from his tongue, unnatural even. He crossed the room and stood before me looking down at me and seeming to see something I couldn't. My heart fluttered and my panic raised a notch.

I'd forgotten, Marius wasn't the only talented member of our little family.

"Marcus," I said with a warning edge to my tone.

But he was tracing invisible threads in the air. He followed them and looked toward the West with a cringing, hateful expression marring his features.

"You're tied to someone. Have you…" Marcus trailed off and his eyes narrowed to slits as he approached me. His steps must have seemed slow to him but he moved quickly and before I was aware of it he was next to me, his eyes closed as he tasted the scents in the air.

"Marius, have you and he…" he trailed off in frustration.

He would think of Marius. Marcus's ability to see connections between people was legendary among the vampire world. With only a glance he could tell if a person loved another, who they admired, who they hated. He could even get a sense of the attachments a person had in this world, what connected them, even if he couldn't see the other end of those attachments.

And so my brother, with his unique ability, could see that after centuries his little sister had finally fallen in love.

I just didn't know what he would do with information like that.

* * *

Insert: An Old Love Story

This isn't a happy story, it's ugly. So perhaps it would be better to call the events that passed a tragedy, but that makes it sound like some elaborate twist in fate or perverse trick of destiny.

But tragedies can begin quite simply, in this case ours began over some misspoken words.

Manius was a second son of Rome, and as a second son he had to make his own way in the world. He did not begrudge his older brother his birth, for he loved him more than his own self, so he chose to be enlivened by the adventure his life was forced to become. He joined the army for a period, but luck was on his side and he survived several battles and finally made a life for himself by marrying into a wealthy Egyptian family, taking to wife a young woman named Bahiti, whose name means good fortune.

And good fortune did tend to follow their every step. Their lands would flourish while their neighbor's failed, money poured into their coffers and Decima, goddess of childbirth, blessed them with two strong sons. Where the family had long resided, it was said that Bahiti's family was born of the god Isis, and that all members of that bloodline possessed certain skills given to them by their immortal heritage. Little is known of what the family thought of this, but it was spoken of in whispers throughout Thebes.

Manius was comfortable in his lucky marriage, but he watched with horror as the politics of Rome tore his brother's family apart, and how one wrong union, resulted in the destruction of many he held dear. His brother's wife, a noble woman from an ambitious family, she and her insidious political aspirations had killed them all. By sheer luck, Manius had been allowed to keep his own life. But sadly, he was banished forever from the city he considered home, never allowed to return.

Bahiti, whose odd good luck seemed to have saved him, listened to his fears and his concerns as he plotted the lives of his sons. For who could be trusted, who could they allow to let close? Someday his sons must wed, but he didn't dare let them choose the bride for fear that they marry a treacherous asp as his brother had.

Bahiti, woman of Egypt, offered an alternative that made her husband turn away in disgust and for some time he would not speak with her.

But as time passed the idea remained, a bell that could not be unrung. And perhaps it was grief or madness, but he chose to agree with his wife and they made their preparations. In Egypt it was quite common, after all, to consolidate and preserve a family though the marriage of siblings. The Ptolemaic dynasty had lost power in Eygpt and Rome now ruled the nine kingdoms, but that royal blood still flowed in Bahiti's veins and she told him stories of how Cleopatra VII, once queen, had married her brother to protect the throne, just as her family before her had. Manius's Roman sentiments rebelled against what he saw as a foul corruption, but Bahiti's argument could not be denied.

A safe bride, a safe family.

She said the next child she bore would be a daughter. And, as luck would have it, she was right.

And Manius felt a sense of calm and steadiness as he gazed down at the girlchild who was his daughter. Never would he fear for her life, or the life of his son. The magic that seemed to cover his wife's family would keep them all safe in such turbulent times of war and empire.

He brought his sons to see the infant as well, and it was then that he spoke the words that he would come to regret. Because as both boys stared with curiosity at their new sister Manius proclaimed, "Someday, she will be your wife."

He did not, however, specify which son she would marry.

Bahiti discovered the mistake early on, and she tired to correct it by bringing another daughter in the world. But by trying to manipulate fate, it appeared she had pushed her luck too far. She died in childbirth, never telling Manius of the fear she harbored for her two sons.

And the two boys, both very different in spirit, grew up following different paths.

Marius, the eldest son, named for the god of war Mars, grew up a strong Roman. He embraced battle and the thrill of the chariot. He fought for fun in the coliseum, not as a gladiator but among the other young nobles who embraced sport. He looked for all the world like some young god, and like his mother he inherited a curious ability to have things work out just as he had intended.

Marcus, the younger, had the coloring and spirit of his mother. He followed the Egyptian world, embracing their gods and studying the history and culture his mother had spoken of in stories. He could have passed for a scholar or theologian, but he also guided the family fortune to even greater heights.

For two such different sons, the one thing that they seemed to share was a strong competitive spirit. Always were they trying to impress their father more, always were they trying to conquer over the other. Always were they fighting for recognition.

And the girl…her mother had chosen for her the name Banafrit, which means beautiful soul, in the hopes that her daughter would see her purpose in this family. She grew up spending little time with her brothers, but she loved them. She loved them honestly and simply, as a sister can love. She loved them equally. She cheered for Marius as he battled his friends in mock combat, she listened as Marcus would speak with such passion about their Mother's world and all he could see and observe.

But Banafrit became a woman, and her path had been decided before she was even born.

Her father had to choose the man that would be best for her, and as tradition lead him, he chose his eldest son.

Marcus left their home in rage, he felt belittled. He hated that he was seen as insignificant in his father's eyes. Marcus had always been good at sensing who had power, and so while the wedding preperations were being made, he flew to the temple of a peculiar god.

A god who took it's sacrifices in blood.

Marius was bold in his victory, and he gave his brother no more thought then one might give a fly. Marcus might be clever, but ultimately he had won once again. It was a battle between the two of them and always had been. Marcus had never been quite smart enough to realize that there had always been one clear victor.

And Banafrit, the girl, she did as she had always known she would have to do. She married him. She felt hollow as the words of her father's blessing were uttered. She stood lamely as her belongings were moved into her brother's room.

It was a fate she had come to expect, and yet for the first time her foolish girlhood dreams died.

Marcus couldn't have known, when he emerged as a young vampire, that he would not claim the girl as he had planned, but that instead he would find in her the sweetest scent in the world.

She had been alone in her room, sending her maids away to have a last moment of freedom before she joined Marius at his side forever. They were wed, but he mattered to her no more than he ever had. She only had a moment, the space of one breath, to see Marcus in the doorway before she felt his cold skin attach itself to her neck.

And she had been dead then, that was something she had never told anyone. Marius had not yet said his words, he would die minutes later, called to the room by the screams. The curse had not been cast. She was dead, a normal death. And for those few minutes, a time that seemed to stretch on forever, she saw a place beyond the life she lived.

And then it was gone and she was gone, and she had to open her eyes to a new life. Her new endless life.

And it would all happen again and again. Marius and Marcus's battle over the girl who loved neither, for that was closer to the truth now. She had once thought she loved them both equally, but the truth was she had grown so tired over the games they played that she felt only the barest affection for each. What love she had was habit.

She had known for a long time that neither truly loved her, they had shown her.

Marius had found other wives and added sons for a few decades changing the original four into twelve. She had ended that, not because of the wives but because of the curse he inflicted on the children. And, when they were alone, the charade was even more apparent. In all their years together he had never touched her as a lover might.

And Marcus, for all his claims of love, he couldn't stop himself from killing her brutally every time they met. He too had married, and for a time there had been some peace. But when that union had fallen apart, the game began again. It was the only thing that interested Marcus anymore, but she only sparked his hunger it was Marius who really brought him alive.

Love or Tragedy? The characters themselves didn't know what sort of scene they played.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Not Quite the End

* * *

Marcus didn't have any control over himself when it came to me. I had once liked to think that meant something, that he still cared or felt attached to me in some way. That he still lov- but no, that wasn't the word. Still, maybe he did care, but the thirst he had for my blood had nothing to do with that. It was biological, it was physical and as he'd told me many times- inevitable.

But over the years he had found ways of increasing my longevity, if only briefly. I'd been used as a pawn between Marcus and Marius a time or two, their intense hatred of each other was one of the few things in this world I'd come to count on. And a dead pawn is of little value.

This explained my current companion.

"You're younger this time," Felix commented, examining my body with slight curiosity, my changing shape intrigued him.

"But I'm older," I said tiredly.

"You look younger," he corrected.

Felix sat back down and calmly stared straight ahead. He was a large block of muscle, strong even by vampire standards. And I knew him best of all the Volturi guard. He rarely left Volterra, unless sent on a mission of some kind, but he was strong and loyal to Marcus beyond all the others. That was why he had been entrusted with my safety from time to time. He could protect me from even Marcus himself if need be. At least for a time.

I tried not to think about that last time he had guarded over me, but the memory from a life long dead came bubbling back to the surface. It had been a lonely life that time around, I'd been grateful when Marius had called me back to him. He had been older than me than, an adult with a tangle of rusty colored hair, thick stubble on his chin, strong arms and a rich heady smell that was rich with the scent of earth.

He wasn't all bad, I thought absently. He had hugged me close and for a moment I'd closed my eyes enjoyed his warmth, his sturdiness. We'd been in Prussia then, and times had been harder than usual with a drought and plague causing many to drop in the streets. I had lost all my connections, either by death or by my own desire.

I had seen my face a few days before in the reflection of the bakery store window, a thin drawn woman with hallow eyes and pale gold hair. I looked for a moment at the face in the reflection and had felt no connection to that woman. Who was she?

But with Marius's arms around me I felt safe, he brought me back to hot days in Egypt, and his voice and the language he whispered to me-. It wasn't love, just like with Marcus, it would never quite be love. But I was hungry for a familiar face, even if I'd never seen this man before.

Nomti was there too, of course, his snake tattoo hidden beneath a warm wool blazer. His loyal eyes looked upon our reunion with approval.

"Come home," Marius said in the old tongue, taking my hand and leading me to a wagon covered in straw, a few blank-eyed sheep in the back.

I had nodded and climbed on eagerly.

We traveled for several hours until we reached a well maintained farm house, it was in the area of Danziger Hohe, which would become part of Germany, and eventually Poland, and today is called Gdansk. But back then it was lively port city in Prussia, and Marius lived far enough away to do good business, but not feel the cold chill from the Baltic Sea.

I'll admit that I was happy there, when Nomti, Marius and I ran the farm. My days were busy, filled with cooking and tending the home, caring for the livestock and taking care of three small children who Marius had already stolen back the winter before. I knew them, even though they looked different. Ammon and Thorth, two of Marius's sons, and Ramses his dearest friend who like Nomti had been bound to Marius in our first life.

But it wasn't to last.

The farm and livestock were sold and we traveled to warmer climates, and the blood lust of that life is something that I wished to never think of again. Marius had heard of a pair of vampires who used human servants to lure victims and it was said that they would even revel in the blood and death, dreaming of their own immortality.

Nothing disgusted Marius more than when humans aided vampires. He found the perversion greater; vampires were monsters but men owed it to their species to destroy such vileness, not contribute to it. He painted a swath of red through the village that worshiped those fiends, women, children. They were all guilty in his eyes.

And to my shame I did nothing to stop them, as him and the others made such a mess of everything. They burned the two vampires at twilight, and danced all night with blood soaking into their clothes. It was madness, manic, an insanity that I still shuddered to remember, but even now, I wonder what it was I could have done. I had not told Edward about this night during our trading of stories, and it was one I wasn't planning on sharing. Violence was contagious, and I knew what Edward meant when he said that his own hunting of murderers had been a poor excuse for blood lust. To my shame, that night I had felt no pity.

It had only been a matter of time before the Voulturi would have to respond to the viciousness of the attack, they mostly left us alone but sometimes The Twelve would draw their eye and the retribution would be brutal.

The first time I had met him had been several hundred years ago. I'd been told later that Aro had made Felix, and that he had stayed with him to guard the Volturi. In truth, I knew that Felix was older than most thought, and that he hadn't been made by Aro. He was one of the few vampires who had visited, and then come to stay. His strength and love of battle had endeared him to Ciaus, Aro too had a fondness of him although why was something Aro hadn't shared, as for Marcus…Felix provided for Marcus the one thing he did not possess, at least when it came to me; control.

I personally though Felix loved battle more than blood, that he loved the contest, the test of wills, the blood was secondary.

I'd been placed in a bedroom that looked like it had been decorated during the early 1900s, in that plush opulent way that the rich of that period had done things. The bed itself was large enough to fit four people comfortably, with silken purple sheets and blankets, but it smelled slightly stale. Human visitors weren't often given this sort of hospitality.

It was my room.

I had lived here from time to time, for very brief and violent periods. That life, it had been cold and dark, and lonely, but otherwise it wasn't that bad. Marcus had stayed away most of that time, but he would come in the night if only for a few moments. He would sit on the plum settee across the room and we had talked of old times. He said vampires didn't like to talk about their times in the sun, but after talking to Edward I wondered if it was more true to say that he couldn't remember it. Still, I had waxed on about some of the early days in Thebes, hoping to alight a spark of life or compassion. I had tried to awaken my brother in the monster. For the briefest of moments I had thought that maybe there was something there, a flame of recognition.

But then Marius had come, flame high and with that terrifying confidence that always thrilled me. How he had entered the Voutari's space I didn't know. But Marius still had a strange knack for luck and long shot chances pulling through. He'd brought guns and explosions that time, not that they did more than irate vampires. The ancient stone walls had shook while he and the remaining twelve

And while Marius and Marcus fought there was always Felix, the stone shadow who followed me, standing silent guard. But Marcus crushed his brother's throat, squeezing the flesh between his fingers until it slipped through them like sand, and when he could no longer bear it, he came for me, at night, and Felix watched with dispassionate eyes. I remember Marcus's cold hands cradled under my head , that same pale blonde hair tangled in the blood and tissue as my life blood dripped away, and as my vision faded in and out, Felix watched with a kind of pity. But not for me.

Felix's devotion to Marcus was really like a kind of love, and looking at him now, I wondered if that wasn't what it was. I felt sorry for him if that was true, because it was a love that would never be returned.

"How have you been?" I asked rising to my feet, desperate for some sort of distraction.

Felix didn't respond, he merely turned and blinked.

Vampires, I thought tiredly. At least the Cullens had attempted small talk.

I paced my room-no _the_ room, with a caged in feeling. I wanted this to be over with, what sort of game did Marcus think he could play. If he was waiting for Marius to come he'd be waiting a long time. Marius was six, he wasn't coming.

The door opened silently and suddenly Marcus was in the room, his tall lean frame looking deceptively weak next to Felix's muscular mass. He held out a cautious hand to the larger vampire, his eyes not meeting mine as he was careful to stay as far away from me as the small room allowed.

"I'll be fine for a time," he said to Felix.

The large man settled back down, but he watched Marcus carefully. It was hard not to feel slightly comforted by my protector, despite the fact that I knew better.

"It's not Marius, is it?" he asked in a soft, almost patient voice as he stared ahead avoiding my eyes. But it wasn't really a question.

"No," I answered anyway, just as softly.

"I knew, of course, that you didn't love him that way…it made it easier somehow." His eyes flickered to me briefly. "To make it seem like you _could_ love me."

"And to make it seem like you loved me," I added gently.

"I do love you," he persisted. "I always have."

"But not enough," I offered.

Marcus raised a hand to his forehead, brushing away a smooth lock of black hair. "Perhaps," he admitted in a voice that was almost too quiet for me to hear.

His eyes lingered on me for a moment, "Banafrit, I-"

A knock on the door cut his words off and in the space of less than a second the door was ripped open and Marcus snarled angrily, "_I said we were not to be disturbed_."

Aro stood in the door looking faintly amused, entertained even.

"We have some visitors," he stated, his gaze drifting into the room curiously. "Oh good, I see Bella is still alive. That will be helpful."

"What game are you playing now," Marcus demanded, his fists clenched.

"No game, my old friend, but Caius and I do so enjoy your family's visits, they make things so interesting."

My stomach dropped, family? Surely Aro couldn't mean that Marius had come, he couldn't have. I rose to my feet unbidden, and Marcus must have had the same thought because he strode from the room quickly with a murderous intent to his footsteps.

I moved to follow but Felix laid a marble hand in front of me barring the way.

"Oh bring her along," Caius purred, appearing out of nowhere to stand beside Aro.

Felix hesitated for only a moment, before bowing his head and removing his hand from my path.

I ran past the two ancient vampires as they cackled, I was turning a corner when I heard Aro mutter, "This is going to be such fun."

I hesitated and drew a quiet breath before I entered through the large stone archway, but I hadn't prepared myself for the sight that reached me. Perhaps I should have, perhaps I should have known…but I couldn't dream that anyone except Marius would come for me.

His amber eyes drew me first, as they always did, and the breath I had taken was pulled from my lungs.

I looked away, I felt ashamed for him to see me here. I couldn't explain the emotion but somehow the idea of Edward being here left only an empty hollow feeling in me, and I wanted to go away and hide for a time. I wanted him to close his eyes and not look at me…and yet I couldn't quite look away.

I felt a cold hand curl around my shoulder, the icy marble fingers brushing my collarbone. Marcus had appeared behind me, the rich earthy smell of him seemed overpowering with our close contact. Somehow this was almost comforting, how things should be. I didn't deserve Edward, he shouldn't see me here. Not here where so much of my blood had been shed.

"So, Prince Charming has come, but in quite an unexpected guise," Aro's cool voice whispered in my ear.

"I never expected your suitor to be…so very unhuman." Caius's voice was mocking and he looked at Marcus with a sly smile.

Marcus snarled, Aro backed away, his palms raised as he crossed into the room. Caius looked like a contemptuous shadow, his face held tight in one of those rigid smiles as they crossed to sit in the elegant thrones that stood on the dais. But Marcus stood alongside me, staring at the two visitors.

"It's been some time," a gentle voice interrupted the uneasy silence. But it was a welcome voice to me, as was Carlisle's smile. I hadn't noticed the patriarch of Cullen clan standing beside Edward, his expressions slightly nervous but still kind.

"Carlisle," Aro said looking pleased. "And how are you? Still pursuing your unhealthy diet?"

Caius chuckled darkly, "Perhaps we can offer him some tastier refreshments."

But their mocking laughter faded in my ears as I felt Marcus's cold hand grip my flesh a little tighter and Edward growled in a possessive manner that sent a chill down my spine faster than the pressure on my shoulder.

"Let her go," Edward's voice was low and dark.

Silence filled the room, for a moment no one spoke, no one even breathed. For the vampires this was an easy feat, but eventually my human breaths interrupted the silence. I turned to glance at Marcus, he'd been oddly composed since learning of my connection to someone else. But I couldn't help but dread how he would react to this. I knew how he had in the past…

And Edward would die.

This knowledge hit me suddenly, although I should have known it the instant I had seen him here.

He would die forever, he would never be here again. Suddenly the concept terrified me. I'd grown used to the people around me dying but…Edward, somehow Edward dying seemed too horrible to put into words. He was a vampire, made like stone and ice, he was enduring and never dying.-But wasn't I fool. For I'd seen his kind torn asunder and burned till only black ash remained, why hadn't I seen it? After all of Edward's fears regarding my mortality…it was_ his_ that we risked.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice sounding shockingly calm.

"We've come to get you Bella," Carlisle's voice. He sounded warm and fatherly and I wanted to fall into his arms.

"And take me where?" I asked, not liking the calm chill that seemed to control the tone of my voice. "I'm here with my family."

And gently, not allowing the fear to enter my eyes, I leaned back into Marcus's touch and raised my gaze to Edward. "I'm sorry if there was some confusion, but my brother needs me now."

I could see the realization come across in their still expressions, it grew slowly, but they could see it. My two brothers, who I been as vague as possible regarding, now were taking on more life, and the blank faced characters I'd introduced were being made solid.

"Bella," Edward said, his eyes searching mine.

"You didn't really think I'd stay with you forever?" I asked tasting the slight scorn in my tone.

Edward flinched in a quick and almost unnoticeable way, but his eyes flickered to the smiling Aro, the frowning Marcus…

And I knew it wouldn't work.

"Don't Bella, it's obvious to everyone," Edward said his voice seeming soft.

Damn Edward and his abilities to read minds. He knew what Marcus, Caius and Aro knew…and they all knew me too well to play along with this charade. I bit my lip hard, nearly chewing it raw as my eyes flickered between the vampires present. How could I convince Edward to leave? I saw in an instant that my words would have no effect on him. Carlisle also seemed to steady and unmoving. Aro and Caius were only laughing at what they saw as another amusement-Marcus.

I turned to Marcus, wrapping my arms around him tightly, my smaller frame tucked under his lean body and I pulled myself against him. I could feel his body vibrating in anger, I could feel the danger and death that lurked in the room. I didn't need to hear the slight growl that edged his voice, I didn't need to see his red ruby eyes burning with jealousy and anger. It was a game I had witnessed for centuries, but for the first time the stakes were real and I had found something I couldn't lose.

"Please don't," I begged softly. "I'll stay with you, I'll stay with you forever…just please don't."

His grip tightened on my arms as I clung to him, holding him tighter then I had ever dared since he had left his humanity behind.

"Just promise you won't hurt him, that he'll live," I whispered in a hushed breath close to Marcus's ear.

"No Bella," I heard Edward say from behind me.

But I pressed my cheek to Marcus, holding my warm flesh to his cold. "I'll stay with you, awughh…"

The bite was not unexpected, and the fiery pain that shot through my neck with it left me feeling numb. It was a familiar burning, as was the pressure, the soft draining pressure that made my fingers tingle as the darkness edged my vision.

Yes, this was better. I could endure this.

It wouldn't be long now, and Marcus would not kill Edward, not now, and Carlisle would make him see sense, and they would go home. And as I lay there feeling the blood pull from my body, as the fire inched and burned, I felt nothing but glad. I had saved Edward, and as long as Edward was safe, this could not be the end.

But suddenly the pressure was gone, and I felt air brush my neck as my back hit the ground. It was hard to feel the stone ground beneath me, I felt like I was swimming in fire, but I didn't dare scream least Edward ruin this. This was my least gift to him afterall.

My eyes rolled up as I followed Marcus around the room, his body falling back. He leaned against the wall licking his lips and his hands as he continued to stare at me. He seemed to be searching for something in my expression, but I didn't have anything to offer him.

So my eyes drifted to Edward, the only place I wished to look, he was fighting against Carlisle and Felix's hold, his eyes looking desperate and I wished I had the strength to tell him to rest. Rest now it couldn't be long now, Marcus could not contain himself. Not with my fresh blood spilling, so warm and wet onto the floor beneath me.

The pain didn't even register as my eyes drifted back to Marcus.

"Not him," I struggled to say before I realized that my throat would no longer work to form words.

Marcus's face was frozen in a hate and despair as he gazed at me, but there was hunger also.

"I've killed you…so many times," he yelled to the walls, rising to his feet and swaying briefly as his voice echoed around the palatial chamber. He dropped to his knees and crawled toward me. "_So many times_," he whispered. "I've destroyed you so many times you shouldn't even exist, not even a trace."

His long white fingered wiped the blood on my face and brought it too his lips almost in a kiss.

"Oh sweet, my sweet Banafrit…I'm sorry again, once again."

He looked at Edward, and the anger in his eyes had dimmed.

"I won't…not anymore, I won't send for you, I won't seek you. I may not have been given Marius's power of words, but this I swear, Banafrit, never shall I destroy you again."

And then in words long forgotten, the old Egyptian tongue which even we no longer spoke, Marcus whispered a final word. "_Only blessings in the next life."_

And I looked at Edward, and my muscles twisted into a smile. He had never been able to read my mind, but the first time I wanted so badly to let him in, I let my mind reach out to his and I hoped he could hear this last thought before my mind would be erased.

And maybe it was the lightness of my body dying, but I thought he looked like he had understood.

Once again Marcus raised me to him, almost gently, his lips were as hard and cold as any statue but I was too far gone to even shiver as he pressed them into my flesh, taking in the last of the blood that continued to bleed from me. He would drink me dry, there would be nothing left of me but another envelope, another body left by the wayside in a long life.

I would be losing something now, but for the first time in a long time I had some hope that things might change.

Hope.

And I would never tell them, but I was also afraid, afraid because of how fragile happiness could be. Nothing was certain in this world, but you see, but I have no regrets. And even though it's killing me-I'd do it again, and again.

"Well that was quiet the show," Aro chortled softly from his throne atop the dais. "I was hoping we'd have a little more time with dear Banfrit she was a little more…surprising than I had-"

"Silence," Marcus growled, as he still cradled the body in his arms. "It's over now. She has made her choice."

"Did you mean what you said?" Caius asked looking faintly interested.

"Yes," Marcus said brushing his palm across the girl's soft looking face. She looked younger now in death, and Marcus cold not forget the first time he had held her still warm body, all those years ago when she was an innocent girl.

Marcus rose to his feet, leaving the body on the floor, but this time he felt like it was the ending of something. Like the end of some tiring curse he'd been carrying for too long.

"She is gone," he said softly as he passed the young vampire who was still staring at the floor.

Edward growled and Carlisle put a warning hand on his arm.

Marcus turned at the noise and stared at the hateful amber eyes. "It is not me who has taken her from you," he said with a soft sad sort of voice, "It is you who has taken her from me."

Carlisle, braver than most vampires would be, stepped between the old vampire and his son, wrapping a comforting arm around the younger vampire. "She's gone Edward, but not forever," Carlisle said softly, concern for his son apparent on his face.

Edward would not look up for a moment.

"I know," he said softly. "Since I've met her, I've never once heard her voice in my head but moments before…" he stared off faintly.

"What did you hear?" Carlisle asked curiously.

Edward glanced around, "It doesn't matter, I heard her…she isn't gone from this world. I'd know it."

Marcus turned to look at the body one last time, "Treat her better than I have. My love has been nothing but cruel."

Then Marcus was gone, leaving the room as Aro started laughing.

"He sounds so pitiable," the most outspoken of the Voulteri laughed. "But if you ask me it is not his interference that should concern you, I'd be more worried about her husband."

But only Carlisle glanced back at the mocking laughter of Caius and Aro as Edward left the room, carrying Bella's body in his arms.

* * *

Epilogue.

Five Years Later

* * *

"She's a very serious little girl isn't she," Mrs. Henderson said looking at the small little girl who had just joined her Kindergarten class.

"She's always been that way, Charlie jokes she's older than him," Renee Snow replied watching as her daughter went to sit by the crayons and papers that were scattered on a tabletop.

The Kindergarten classroom occupied a large bright room in the small California town of Oreila. Twenty small children tumbled around underfoot, their buzz of activity and excited chatter making the room seem like a hive of bees. Amongst the swarm, a small girl with long blonde hair seemed to watch them all with wide brown eyes. She sat prettily with her legs clad in bright purple leggings and a jumper dress that featured a small kitten with a wide grin on one shoulder.

"She's probably just shy," Mrs. Henderson consoled, smiling at the anxious mother.

Renee didn't know quite how to tell the kind teacher that her little Beth wasn't shy, it sounded too paranoid and strange to say that there was something odd about her child, not without sounding crazy. But there was something wrong with Beth; Renee had seen it right away when she looked into the little girl's eyes. She had undergone a quick labor and had looked into the eyes of her newborn and it had been like meeting an adult for the first time. When she had tried to explain it to her mother, which of course given their relationship was probably the wrong choice to make, she had been rebuffed and then recommended to see a doctor for post partum depression.

She'd gone to the doctor in the end, urged on by Charlie, and tried to put to words the sense that she had about this little person she'd given birth too. They had prescribed her blue pills that had made her feel sleepy and fuzzy. In the end she just decided not to mention it anymore.

But there was something about Beth's eyes, it was like she could see the whole world in those eyes.

But she didn't want to be crazy, Renee shook herself.

"She likes to color?" Mrs. Henderson asked. The chubby, friendly faced woman moved toward the small girl and peered over her shoulder at whatever little masterpiece the serious five-year-old was working on.

"Yes…" Sarah said, hoping that Beth was…being normal.

She peered anxiously at the paper for a moment before breathing a sigh of relief. She was only drawing the trees, tall green trees. Sometimes the things that her little girl put down on paper seemed frightening.

"She's quite good," Mrs. Henderson praised a slightly amazed tone to her voice.

"I'm an artist, she's always picking up things."

Renee smiled softly at that. Beth might not be the little baby she always imagined that she would be raising, but she found she did like the little person that her daughter was. She was deft at picking up all manner of crafts and hobbies, and oddly enough she had also shown a great deal of interest in Charlie's old piano, a remainder from his mother's estate sale that they just couldn't seem to give away. Charlie, who had been forced to attend piano lessons as a boy was puzzled by this, as a child he had dreaded what he considered a monstrosity, but he still did his best to recall some of his long dead skill. It was cute watching the quiet man, his thin lanky frame perched on the bench while Beth looked on quietly beside him.

Sarah turned suddenly when a commotion in the hallway caught her attention. An older boy, eleven or twelve maybe dashed into the room with a chubby gym teacher in pursuit.

"Billy Wheaton," the man wheezed from the doorway, "Back with the rest of your class."

"Oh lay off, this is none of your concern," the boy replied in an odd grown-up sounding voice.

Renee felt a shiver at his tone, it reminded her oddly of the commanding and composed quality her daughter's voice could take at times.

Billy, the boy, ran into the room and stopped dead spinning around looking carefully, his gaze pinning on the five-year-olds in the room all who looked back at him with curious and interested wide eyes.

"Found you," Billy said, sounding very sure. Renee wasn't certain what he was looking for though, he seemed to be looking in the same direction as her daughter.

"Back with your class," the gym teacher said, using one of his meaty arms to guide the boy back to the door.

But the boy agilely slipped out of his grip and stopped before the coloring table.

"Beth?" Renee said nervously, wondering if they had seen the boy somewhere before.

But the little girl looked up, a very tired expression on her face, "Hello there."

And then Billy started laughing, a low and manic laugh that left Renee feeling somewhat numb. There was so much in that laugh, it was insane and dark and hungry. And Beth, those wide all seeing eyes, seemed to watch his laughter with a tiredness that left Sarah thinking, she's not normal, _she's not normal_.

"Don't make us call your parents again," the gym teacher said, finally catching the boy in his grasp and pulling him toward the door.

Billy didn't even resist as he continued laughing.

"Sorry Betty," the gym teacher said, "Little Houdini here."

Mrs. Henderson cleared her throat and looked at the boy with some concern before smiling and waving the two toward the door, "Sorry about that," she apologized, "We try to keep the older grades in the other end of the elementary, but we all share the same gym." She chuckled as if it were an amusing daily occurrence.

Renee nodded and did her best to smile as she put on her coat, there was no reason for her to stay, Beth likely wouldn't even notice she was gone.

"And who is this sweetie?" Mrs Henderson asked leaning over Beth's trees. "Is she a princess? She looks all sparkly?"

Renee glanced back for a moment and watched the kindly teacher look with interest as the oddly well defined image. Renee knew how Beth would answer the woman's question.

"It's a prince."

"Oh that's so sweet," Mrs. Henderson gushed before moving on to the other children.

Beth turned and looked out the window, and if a five-year-old could be called wistful, Beth was likely the only one who could manage it.

"It's hard letting them go, isn't it," said a fellow mother a warm smile.

She nodded absently, Renee didn't know why, but she knew that if she'd ever had her little girl, she'd lost her long ago.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed this, it was my first experience trying to capture the thrill of romance in writing. If you enjoyed, please review.

-Worfe


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